HR 8wv1 Amrys the Apprentice
by slytherinsal
Summary: This is an unashamed school story; Sagarra's friend Amrys becomes an apprentice to understand more about a craft with a newly-founded crafthall at Rivenhill Hold Spring 2523 to end of Turn
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"Mother, Corbin, I think I should be thinking about my future" said Amrys seriously over breakfast.

Rillys blinked.

"Your future is as Lady Holder!" she said "What's to think about dearling?"

"Oh yes, provisionally" Amrys was proud of that nice long word "But now you have Corbin, it might be that one of my siblings, Corrys or any brothers I might have in the future, or sisters for that matter, might prove better; and I'd be doing poor duty to my people not to step aside under those circumstances" she smiled sunnily at Corbin, whom she loved as dearly as though he were her father by blood.

"But Lord Deckter named you Lady and me Lady Warder" said Rillys.

"Huh, Lord Deckter's a practical man, he'll go with what's best" said Amrys. "I think I'll make a good lady Holder 'cos I've had a good teacher in you mother; but you can't say that Corrys or others yet unborn won't be better. Besides, suppose I accidentally Impress? Sagarra always invites me to hatchings. And if I did, I have to then consider the unthinkable…" her gaze twitched to Corbin, the dragonless man. His face tightened.

"You didn't ought to worry about things like that so young" he said, his voice raw.

"But it's a possibility I can't help being aware of, dearest Corbin" said Amrys "And if more weyrlings worried about it the way High Reaches weyrlings have R'gar to light a fire under their tails to worry about it other Weyrs would have a better accident rate. But it can still happen to the best – like you. And if that happened I'd need hard work to fall back on. There! It's not likely 'cos I'm not likely to Impress because I don't really want to; but I need more than one string to my bow. Besides, H'llon reckons half the Holders and their ladies are plum lazy and can't do a day's work to save their lives and I'd hate to have anyone think that of me. If I can display journeyman's knots I'll have proved myself capable of hard work. Fish Holders have to be Master Fishermen. So I reckon ought other Holders to be Masters – or at least Journeymen – of their local crafts. And you've been talking about inviting more crafthalls in, specially a Weavercraft Hall; and I like weaving and sewing and I'd like to learn more – how extra heddles make fancy patterns, how to dye the wool and linen. We raise ovines and caprines and I know how to shear ovines; we grow flax by the river and the Mulgan train can bring in long haired caprine wool and llama wool from the High Reaches."

"She's certainly thought it all through well" said Corbin.

"She's a bright and thoughtful girl" said Rillys "Even if she does interfere in love affairs that are progressing quite well without her intervention."

Amrys flushed, and grinned.

"Oh I was very young then" she said airily of events a whole turn past.

Rillys and Corbin laughed.

Amrys was glad, if a little puzzled as to what was funny. Corbin rarely laughed; even the love of her mother and his little gold firelizard Silka rarely displaced the empty look at the back of his eyes, though he managed to put himself aside from it to be with his family. He would even take trips dragonback now; Amrys had asked Camnath, her favourite dragon, if the High Reaches dragons would talk to Corbin to fill the void, as she had heard that it had helped Brekke, the bereft one-time Queenrider. It helped somewhat, and Corbin was grateful to Camnath and to R'cal who took no offence at the Blue dragon chatting to another.

"Well if you want to be an apprentice, you should live in properly and only have Gatherday meetings with us" said Corbin "Or you'll find yourself being teased as mummy's precious babe."

Amrys nodded.

"I kind of figured that already" she said "And I did wonder if I should be sent right away; but I think it would help Rillys to know I was close on hand if you both needed me. And yes, of course I'm going to miss you both and baby Corrys; but it's important."

Rillys nodded.

"We've been through such a lot…. I don't want to be a clinging mother, but…."

Corbin tightened his arms around her shoulders and Amrys nodded sagely.

"But you mustn't interfere" she said to her mother "I promise if I can't cope with any bullies I find I'll ask for help if I can't sort them out another way. But I MUST learn to stand on my own feet. I'll have to as Lady Holder."

"Quite right" said Corbin, gravely.

He forbore to mention that standing on her own feet was the last thing he worried about with Amrys, who not only stood on her own feet but used them and her fists indiscriminately on bigger boys who were in her opinion acting the bully. At eleven turns old she was if anything too full of responsibility, as her carefully thought out reasons for taking apprenticeship highlighted rather sharply; and having the chance to be away from responsibilities and mixing with and playing with feckless and cheerful apprentice lads her own age might be good for her!

As it happened, negotiations had already been underway with Masterweaver Zurg; and he agreed to send six or eight Masters and as many journeymen to form the basis of a subsidiary crafthall at Rivenhill Hold. The majority of the new apprentices were to be drawn from the immediate locality; though any from the High Reaches region would be accepted if they appeared suitable.

Zurg intended to send several senior apprentices too, including those close to journeyman status; it would give a more natural start to have some more knowledgeable lads, who would also be of real help to those journeymen who were manufacturing rather than teaching. Of his Masters and Journeymen he picked from those with wives and families who were prepared to travel; a successful crafthall needed Craftbred children in it; and an undercook thus became head cook to a new Hall, and her son of age to start his apprenticeship there, for having a few new apprentices bred to the craft would not hurt either.

This little Nabolese Hold had a mix of fibres available and promise to be quite useful! Zurg thought he would suggest taking along some sisal-thread plant that grew wild throughout Southern Boll and other southerly locations; whilst cotton would not ripen so far north, Rivenhill might just be sheltered enough for the sisal-thread. Gossamer-spinners might also be cultivated indoors, their thread and that of the sisal being the nearest approximation the Weavers had in sheen to the unreproducible silk that the ancients used, and which existed only in precious fragments in the Weavercraft museum. If Rivenhill could produce sisal and gossamer thread on commercial levels this hall might yet rival Fort Weaverhall with fine brocades!

Zurg was an ambitious man.

He always frowned to hear of 'Fort Brocades' when they were Weavercraft brocades, produced largely in the Fort Hold Weaverhall. He thought it unseemly that by so calling them it was Lord Groghe who had the credit for them, not him.

Accordingly, Zurg picked a talented Master of brocading as his Masterweaver to go to Rivenhill!

Masterweaver Lynger was a romantic.

The story of Rillys and her dragonless husband thrilled his heart; and he was quite able to extract the tale in detail from the beanpole of a child who was his guide. The Lady Amrys, he reminded himself.

"And so you promoted the match?" he asked when Amrys told him the story.

Amrys grinned ruefully.

"Well, they were so plainly suited, and Sagarra and I thought they were being slow realising it. I was young and impatient" she laughed, telling him the rest of the story.

"Well, My Lady, I think it very resourceful and kindly meant of you" he said approvingly.

"Oh Master Lynger! You shouldn't call me 'My Lady' you know, because I'm only one of your scrubby apprentice brats after all!" said Amrys.

"Er, you are?" he was startled.

"Oh dear, didn't mother say in her letter and ask if I might? I'm sorry, and of course you might not want me; but I do want to learn and I do think it right I should know the main craft we're hosting, don't you, sir?"

Master Lynger beamed even more approval on Amrys, not least on her pretty deference to his earned rank.

"Personally I agree wholeheartedly. I see no reason you should not apprentice; to learn more about the craft is admirable in one of your position. Even if you have relatively little aptitude, you will still get the insights; and it's not as though you had to make your way in the craft. If you DO have aptitude, it is of course a bonus. Only we DO require our female apprentices to cut their hair; partly for the danger of catching it in the big looms and partly because people do not like finding unauthorised fibres as you might say in their clothing." He regarded her warily; for Amrys had a long thick plait.

The little girl grinned and patted her soft neat brown hair.

"It'll be no hardship, sir; and worth it for the chance to learn anyway" she said. "I'd thought about clipping it anyway, 'cos it's more convenient for trips dragonback – I have Weyr friends – only mother made horrified noises. If I've got a good and – and compelling reason" that was another good word "She can't gripe at me for cutting it off on a whim, can she?" the child smiled beatifically up at him.

He smiled down austerely.

He must avoid making a pet of her, engaging scamp though she was; and it would do her no favours with her peers. But he would watch her!

And if she had Weyr friends, that could be a very good market to develop, just what Master Zurg would want!

The Crafthall was to be built away from the Hold, some hundred lengths or more downriver to give it more autonomy; and it was to be constructed entirely of masonry. Large windows would be needed, especially on the north side to take advantage of the pure light without sunlight to dazzle. That meant big Threadfall shutters too, of course, to cover the big windows during Threadfall for the peace of mind of the Weavers. Lady Rillys suggested a set of buildings around a courtyard like the Harper Hall to have as many windows as possible; and Master Lynger was delighted!

The dyehouse was to be separated from the main complex of course, for its oft times noxious smells; and the retting too. Lady Rillys suggested covered ways from the main building to each of these outbuildings, pointing out how inclement the weather could be in the High Reaches, as well as making a safe run during Threadfall if anyone should be out of the main building during Fall for any reason. Tunnels, she said, would be impractical in the river valley for the possibility of flooding, especially near the retting pools. Lady Rillys also suggested building a mill to more readily ret the flax.

"And any short and substandard fibres can be sold to the Weyr for their Woodcrafter to make paper" she said "He makes a lot of paper. I should think he could help build your mill too; he has his own watermill to work some of his woodcrafting machines, though I'm a little vague about what they are and what it does."

"He sounds most resourceful" said Lynger "We'll have a woodcrafter attached to us to build and mend looms, but I'm not sure Benor could manage the workings of a mill."

"I'll ask H'llon to pop over and chat to you" said Rillys cheerfully.

To find out that the Weyrwoodcrafter was Impressed was enough of a shock!

To find him, when he arrived within a couple of hours, to be a Bronze Rider Acting-Master with a flightleader's tassel on his wingleader's knots who ruffled Amrys' hair and pass various firelizards to her was more of a shock. The weyrfolk the Ladies Rillys and Amrys knew were more important than he realised!

Once Lynger realised that H'llon was about the furthest any man could get from arrogant and overbearing without having the fault of diffidence and that he had some good ideas and competent plans he warmed to the young Bronze Rider no end. H'llon was, after all, a fellow craftsman. And Lynger was not averse to a quick daydream of what it might have been like had he become a journeyman rider instead of a Master!

Actually, Lynger thought that H'llon was the sort of man anyone might wish to have as a friend; and hoped fervently to be in that enviable position one day.

He mentioned their resident woodcrafter.

H'llon tried not to pull a face.

"You know Benor, Bronze Rider?"

"He's a cousin of The Masterwoodcrafter, Master Benelek" said H'llon "I suppose Master Benelek is exceptional and it's unfair to compare relatives."

"YOU don't think much of Benor then?"

"Well…." H'llon was loath to pass his opinion, which lay somewhere between the uncomplimentary and the frankly scatological.

"It's all right; I shan't take offence" said Lynger "I'm just interested in a woodcrafter's opinion."

"Well, in that case… and mind, it's turns since I saw him….. I'd say once he'd learned a skill like loom building he'd be very good at doing it providing he didn't have to deviate from the basic design. He's one who has trouble putting ideas into his head, but once they're in there, they're pretty immovable."

"You mean he's an unimaginative, stubborn fool?"

"Master Weaver, you said it not I" said H'llon "They did teach me some tact since I Impressed. He's also impatient; I imagine you already watch him to see he doesn't skimp to the detriment of safety."

Lynger was startled.

"I don't; it hadn't occurred to me. But I shall" he said "And I surely do appreciate the warning. The last thing a new Hall needs is an accident, however minor, to shake confidence in it. And it'll be the first time he's had sole charge of building looms too."

H'llon nodded.

"Safety first, I always say" he agreed "You see, I don't know if he appreciates how much a loom will shake with the pedals of a dozen heddles going and two hefty journeymen slinging shuttles at each other."

"You know something of weaving?"

"Oh not really, Master Lynger, only the odd few things I've picked up. I got chatting one day to Lord Warder Lytol – he was weavertrained, you know, and somehow the conversation drifted. I was fascinated; I like to know how things work."

"Well, may I call on your good graces if we need anything beyond Benor's capabilities?" Lynger dared ask.

H'llon grinned cheerfully.

"Subject to Threadfall of course" he said "Always happy to help friends of the Weyr – and any donations of cloth for our orphans of the childhold if I do a good job will be gratefully received. You need a better mill race here, you know; best to set the mill back and have a mill pond, because that'll help during the seasonal floods too not to damage the mill. That's all easy to build, though. Rillys has minecrafters and builders to hand I expect; simple job!" he beamed.

Lynger was delighted.

This was going to be a far, far better posting than he had thought at first, when the thought of going so far north had filled him with dismay!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Work went ahead on the crafthall the moment the snows started to melt; and H'llon came with his apprentices to start to help build the looms.

With tact born of asking Pilgra's advice he heartily thanked Journeyman Benor for the opportunity to let his apprentices see how to build anything larger than a table loom. It was quite plain that Journeyman Benor, who had come north by this time, did not feel very happy at having a Bronze Rider to help him whose journeyman's knots sported the tassel that gave him Acting-Master status.

Amrys knew two of H'llon's apprentices, Radall and Serelis; Diccon was of similar age, a mischievous looking lad; and Ipominea, a daughter of Meron, who was not much older than Amrys. Amrys had met her briefly at a feast celebrating the last hatching; the girl had been excited over her sister Impressing, Amrys recalled.

As H'llon had no objection to Amrys mucking in with his apprentices – providing that she did as she was told – she would learn a lot, she thought, by helping; loom construction was a course that would be available to her, and understanding how things worked would also help with weaving too! Master Weaver Lynger, also supervising, seemed to have no objection, and Amrys had not yet cut her hair, and dressed in a distinctly feminine style according to her status. If Journeyman Benor objected, he was unlikely to recognise her with her hair short and looking more like one of the boys when he taught her formally!

Whilst some looms were scarce more than overgrown table looms there were others that H'llon and his apprentices were really there to help to build.

These looms were big, complex pieces of machinery and utterly fascinating. One was a huge affair called a draw loom; Master Lynger, explained that the warp threads would have strings attached for a boy sitting on the top of the frame to lift groups of them to order to weave brocades.

Ipominea frowned.

"Would not it be more efficient to have them run to a pulley with levers for the weaver himself to operate?" she asked.

H'llon looked thoughtful and reached for a notebook.

Journeyman Benor, had other ideas.

"Don't be foolish, apprentice, it's never been done that way before!" he snapped.

Ipominea recoiled as though she had been slapped and Amrys felt embarrassed by his display of nastiness even though she was not yet part of the Hall where he would teach. It was the worst of bad manners to reprove another man's apprentices like that.

"Benor, I encourage my apprentices to come up with new ideas" rumbled H'llon ominously. "And I don't see why it shouldn't work. If things were always done the way they were before we'd have died under Thread because the ancients wouldn't have bred dragons from firelizards; and you'd also have no paper to make our drawings on because your cousin wouldn't have invented it. Oh, and that printed sheet you have in your pouch with new varnish recipes on was an idea developed by one of MY apprentices – now a journeyman – and her fosterling. So before throwing words like 'foolish' around, look carefully at the state of your own wisdom."

Benor scowled.

Technically H'llon, with his rare tassel on his journeyman's knots out ranked him; and the fact that the man was also a Bronze Rider was a deterrent to answering him back! With innovation such an alien concept to the man, any new idea made him intensely uncomfortable; as if being in the presence of so dangerous a man as a dragonrider did not make him so to start off with!

"We use this method to teach the apprentices the rudiments of brocading" said Master Weaver Lynger "A personal approach. Though if it could go through pulleys and a cord or pulley pulled at ground level it would be safer than having children perched above the frame. Bronze Rider H'llon is famed for his inventions, Benor; I think we might do well to look at his sketches and see if they are feasible, don't you?"

Benor was a trifle mollified to be asked; and nodded grudgingly.

"If he has time to waste on such I suppose it won't hurt to look" he said.

Master Lynger's brief wink to H'llon was so rapid Amrys almost thought she might have imagined it!

Evidently the Master Weaver knew how to handle his cantankerous woodcrafter; and the loom building proceeded with no further ado.

Later, H'llon gave Ipominea and Serelis time off to catch up with Amrys.

"It's good to have a craft" said Ipominea seriously "I hope you enjoy it."

"Well, I like weaving and sewing already" said Amrys "So I guess I shall. I like your ideas about the pulleys; I reckon H'llon will get you to design them and I bet he won't tell Benor in case he scoffs at it being apprentice designed."

"You ought to say 'Journeyman Benor' you know in deference to another craft" said Ipominea.

"Wherry teeth" said Amrys airily "You have as much respect for that hidebound old windbag as I do; and we're weyrfolk family before we're apprentices of different crafts."

Ipominea digested this; then nodded.

"It's still a good habit to have though" she said "It might save you a cuff or two if you ever forget; and besides, I believe in getting politer and politer to people you don't like. Like my sister and I did to our foster parents. Before H'llon and Z'ira were our foster parents, obviously."

Amrys considered this; then grinned wickedly.

"I like" she said. "Now, Serelis, tell me all about how Sagarra is!"

Serelis brightened and proceeded with all the weyr news of people Amrys knew so well; Ipominea was well suited as H'llon's apprentice, though, thought Amrys, as she laughed over Sagarra's latest exploits, for the slightly older girl had whipped out a pencil and paper already to sketch the pulleys!

By the time spring had set in in earnest, the weesweets filling the air with their twittering and the lambs gambolling in their ungainly fashion the Hall was substantially complete; and the other masters and journeymen and the first apprentices were to move in.

Master Lynger and his wife Hiliana were already known to Amrys. Hiliana was a motherly body as nosy as her husband and eager to assume her place as Headwoman of the Hall, not having served an apprenticeship herself. She, like her husband, was predominantly grey of hair, and Amrys guessed that if she had any children they were all long since married and with children themselves. She also had a little green firelizard that chirped curiously from her shoulder and seemed as nosy as her mistress, having already met and gossiped with Amrys' own pair!

In charge of the female apprentices was another master's wife, Otaysa, a kind faced woman in her middle fifties, though her hair was still dark bar the streak of grey beginning at the temples of her curly mop. Her husband, Master Sewncraft Braelek was a jolly seeming fellow who had been filled with joy to travel on dragonback – a courtesy extended by the folk of High Reaches Weyr – with his wife and their journeyman son, Otelek. Otelek resembled his mother, with a mass of dark tumbled curls that looked cut by guess and gave him an absurdly boyish air; and yet when standing next to his father, despite the lighter brown of the older man's hair there was a distinct resemblance, perhaps about the generous mouth and eager eyes as they discussed mountain climbing expeditions.

"And what would be the excuse for that?" Otaysa asked gravely.

Father and son looked at each other.

"Oh to seek more high pastures for the caprines of course, mother!" said Otelek.

"Oh of course" said Otaysa, chuckling.

They seemed a nice family who teased each other cheerfully!

Other Masters had arrived too.

Master Dyer Neen, a ruddy-faced man with lank black hair and surprisingly pale eyes was too impatient to see his dyehouse to make more than a perfunctory greeting to Lady Rillys and Corbin; and judging by the way the redness of his cheeks deepened, possibly too shy too! Master Designer Telarish made up for it with his cheerful greetings. His hair was a deep reddish brown, carefully cropped, and his eyes a cheerful crinkly hazel. He dragged one leg as he walked but as the other Masters ignored it and he seemed to need no aid, Amrys resolved to do so too. Master Lacecrafter Rakul had looks that Amrys thought unfairly wasted on a man; his complexion was perfect, and his hair a curly pale gold and his eyes a smoky blue under ridiculously long lashes. Some things just weren't fair. He spoke to Rillys to enquire about the possibility of outworkers adding to the craft and volunteered to run lacemaking classes for local women for that purpose and for their gain too. Rillys gave him an old fashioned look as she considered this question; it was an excellent idea, so long as such a good looking man was not using it as an excuse to charm women. However he did not seem to be turning extraordinary charm on her, so Rillys readily granted permission to use a room in the Hold for such classes if Master Lynger agreed; and resolved to keep an eye on it.

The final Master, Master Printer Targer also seemed a cheerful and friendly man, with looks typical of the southern provinces, hair bleached almost white, and startlingly blue eyes in his tanned face. He was eager for an opportunity to talk to 'this weyrwoodcrafter' he had heard so much about to order more blocks for printing woodblock repeats, since the crafthall would need its own!

There were eight journeymen besides the dour woodcrafter Benor; three of them appeared to be married, one old enough that any children he and his rather sour looking wife had likely to be grown up – and none of the other journeymen resembling them, and for a journeyman to be that old without attaining mastery suggesting there was something wrong with him –and another journeyman with several very small children keeping his competent looking wife busy. One journeyman that Amrys noticed particularly, a sandy haired man with brown eyes protective of his pretty, black haired wife and their several offspring whose colouring varied between both parents; for the oldest was a little girl about Amrys' own age, her hair a browner shade of sandy than her father's, neatly bobbed – suggesting that she planned to be an apprentice too – and pretty almond shaped eyes like her mother in the same golden shade of hazel, almost the same colour as her hair.

Another Journeyman had no spouse with him but was accompanied by a lad who resembled him enough to be a son; they both had hair of the precise same shade ginger. The older man had a worn down, almost cowed look; and again was older than one might expect in a journeyman. The lad, however, in his mid teens, looked pugnaciously protective, so presumably there was History there!

There were five other older lads, all a little older than the ginger journeyman's boy; they and he all wore senior apprentice tassels, a sure sign that promotion to journeyman was but a matter of time! Either they were weak in one field and had to bring that up to scratch, or they were deemed too young to support the status – or at least, not sufficiently mature.

Amrys had cut her nut-brown hair to form a neat cap of hair around her head, and had donned plain enough trews and shirt that she looked a quite unremarkable little boy – apart from the two firelizards on her shoulder, perched on the leather protective pauldron she wore for the purpose. The other girl had a firelizard too – a bronze! She and Amrys caught each other's gaze; Amrys grinned.

The other girl gave a formal little inclination of the head.

Shards, thought Amrys, I hope she's not stuck up!

Amrys was a logicator however.

The eyes of the little bronze firelizard were whirling with a distinctly violet shade of anxiety; the kid was scared, that was all!

Amrys promptly went over to her.

"Hi, I'm Amrys and I'm glad I'm not going to be the only girl" she said, holding out her hand.

Startled, and a little wary, the other girl took it.

"I'm Kevanna….you're a girl? It doesn't show much. This is Sheen" she indicated her firelizard "My – my father gave me the egg for taking up an apprenticeship."

Amrys shot her a look; that sounded rather lukewarm – about the apprenticeship, anyway. The girl plainly adored her little firelizard!

"Sapphire and Emerald; Saph and Em for short. I fostered in the Weyr for a while, so I made friends there who had access to eggs 'n' things" it was no point concealing her weyr associations; better to get it into the open. And having weyr friends covered up for also being Ranking.

"Didn't you want to stay to Impress?" gasped Kevanna.

"Well…. I want to be a weaver. Time enough to consider Impression when I've a good craft behind me – if I want to" said Amrys. "They encourage weyrchildren to have a craft, you know, and I thought this new Hall would be the best place; I've relatives in the Hold here too you see."

"Oh, that makes sense I guess" said Kevanna. "And we're too young to stand yet anyway; it's only grown up ladies who Impress Golden Queens, and I'm only eleven."

"I'm the same age as you; which means I'll be twelve next turn and eligible for a Green – in theory at least" said Amrys. "Though I doubt I'd take it up so soon, if I do at all. They put girls to Greens at High Reaches Weyr you know; if you only took up weaving to please your Pa – he looks nice by the way – you could think of it."

Kevanna shot her a look.

"You guessed?"

"You're not exactly enthusiastic; and you make like you feel guilty to have Sheen."

"You're right" Kevanna's lip quivered and she fought it under control. "Father's a brilliant father, if a little impatient at times; and – and I wanted to please him. But he's so good at all he turns his hand to and I'm….well, I'm fairly ordinary. I don't think I'm any WORSE than the majority of first turn apprentices; but I won't shine like he'd hope me to."

Amrys tucked a sympathetic arm into Kevanna's

"Look, the kid I fostered with in the weyr has a brother who's a Harper – he's Impressed now, but he made Journeyman first – and when he was an apprentice they had a self-help group to bring each other on. I don't know how good I'm going to be; but why don't we do that, huh, and ask other people we like to join?"

"Do you really think it'll help?"

"Oh yes! I'm sure it could!" said Amrys blithely.

Of such are friendships made.

Kevanna was grateful that her secret was out to someone who did not seem in the least bit shocked that she was not as talented as her father; who would help her; and who would probably get her taken on Search if she did not do well as a weaver!

Kevanna's father had three firelizards, a green and two browns; the only others looked to two of the Masters, one of the senior apprentices and the oldest journeyman.

"It was an accident, father having so many" said Kevanna. "The trader mistook the date; my father was carrying the basket of eggs to the Masters and they all hatched. Master Neen and Master Rakul Impressed one each, and Headwoman Hiliana, but father ended up with three. Fortunately Master Lynger thought it was funny, 'cos Master Lynger's a decent sort and very kind. And in just the short time he's had them, since we knew we were coming here, they've been so helpful that he bought the egg for me; and Sheen was a bronze, and the trader didn't know – it wasn't a specially big egg, you see."

"Your good fortune made up for the other poor judgement of this trader character" said Amrys. "It doesn't sound like he was they scrupulous, you know; the Masters' firelizards and the Headwoman's are all greens, and the highest colours the two browns your father had. Reckon most of those eggs came from green clutches you know; did any fail to hatch?"

"About a quarter I think….father said some never did though they were watched carefully, and they started to smell and had to be thrown out."

"Word to the wise then – I'd suggest you get your father to tell Master Lynger that they were had" Amrys said. "I guess you've had help with the training?"

Kevanna nodded.

"Yes, we had a whole list of instructions from the Harper Hall" she said "And Zayven – that senior apprentice – had his firelizard when he came as an apprentice and he gave out advice. Oh dear, and he's coming to check if you need help. He's all right – I mean, he's no bully – but he does like to interfere, though not as much as Serry does. And Zayven at least MEANS well."

Zayven wandered over.

"See you have two firelizards there, lad – I hope they're trained?" he asked "If not, I can help you with them."

Amrys smiled brightly.

"Oh thank you, senior apprentice, but I was taught how to train them by my weyr relatives" she said.

His eyes widened.

"Ah, I see; well you shouldn't have any trouble then."

"What's your little green's name? These are Saph and Em" she scratched their polls.

It was the way to the boy's heart.

"She's called Trouble and deserves it" he said, his face softening as he caressed the little creature. "I come from Twosprings Hold not far from here, just to the east; there are wild green clutches on the river cliffs there and I climbed up to get myself an egg!"

"Goodness, that's resourceful!" said Amrys. "I suppose that's about as safe a place as a green can get – if it doesn't get too cold."

He shrugged.

"Oh they only hatch if they're laid in the warmer months of course! So many greens came into Nabol under Meron when he was buying them from the Oldtimers I guess they outnumber queens more than normally; and I've also heard that queen firelizards eat any green-laid eggs they find, and harry the green mothers too!"

"Oh that's interesting, I never knew that!" said Amrys, delighted to find out something new. "I'll write to my foster sister in the weyr, her name's Sagarra, and she can pass that on to R'cal – he's her grandfather – who's the resident firelizard expert, well him and H'llon between them!"

That she knew the woodcrafter that Master Lynger had praised also did her no harm in the older boy's eyes.

Amrys was fairly certain that she was going to enjoy herself.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Kevanna told Amrys that there were to be thirty new apprentices starting, including themselves, aged from eleven to thirteen, most with little or no experience of weaving.

"They thought it was worth the trouble of intensive teaching to get a large number of apprentices up and running; but they didn't think they could cope with larger numbers of those with no knowledge" Kevanna explained "Because it would have been unfair to dislodge established apprentices, other than those seniors who volunteered. I guess as the Hall starts to make a name for itself, lone journeymen will send in part-trained apprentices to take advantage of the facilities."

Amrys nodded sagely.

"Like H'llon sent Elissa to the Woodcrafter Hall and she made journeyman inside of a turn" she said.

"Shells, that's impressive! She must be good – and so must he as a teacher!"

"She is good. She invented printing words and her fosterling – who's a bit older than us I think, and hardly any younger than Elissa – invented using single letters. It's awfully clever; H'llon encourages innovation" said Amrys, who liked that choice of word. Innovation; it had a good ring to it. "They're planning to make technical books for every craft to help lone journeymen to teach better, but it'll take turns to do!"

"That's really useful!" said Kevanna "You know some exciting people!" she sounded wistful.

"Oh that's just perspective" said Amrys hurriedly "You know lots of Masters in a craft I want to learn; to me THEY're exciting people!"

"Well, they're all nice anyway" said Kevanna "And I don't want to let THEM down either! I say, when Master Braelek and Journeyman Otelek find out there's wild green clutches near here, they'll be after them I bet! Journeyman Otelek's funny, he tells the most outrageously embroidered stories of the way he saved Pern in various ways; and you can't help but laugh, for he always tells them so he ends up in silly situations! And he's really clever too and good of thinking of clever things; like using a spoiled batch of dyed embroidery threads – they'd taken the dye unevenly – in a fine felt, cut up into tiny coloured mores and embroidered into. It made the prettiest slippers! One of Lord Sangel's daughters bought a pair! And he's been known to rescue apprentices when they tried to scale the drumheights by the cliffs not the stairs. He's really nice."

"He sounds like it was a shame he never went for Impression" said Amrys. "Reckon when he makes Master I'll have word to have him stolen for the weyr; they like people of – of resource and sagacity."

Kevanna giggled.

"You don't half like long words!"

"Well I'm not as bad as H'llon's apprentice Ipominea and her sister I'linne" said Amrys. I do like words though."

"Ipominea? Poor girl, what a name!" Kevanna giggled again. "Well the weyr'll have to wait for Journeyman Otelek to be a Master, he's only twenty three you know; he's Master Braelek's younger child."

There were other apprentices amongst the children of the support staff who had come with the weavers; Torghen was the same age as the two little girls, the son of two cooks, one of whom would be head cook. He was a conventional lad, though friendly enough, inclined to draw back and keep a stiff distance on learning that Amrys was a girl; and treating Kevanna similarly.

Kyilin was a drudge's child and asked as his first question where Saph and Em had cone from and wasn't Amrys' hair cut for the convenience of wearing with a flying helmet rather than the required shorter than shoulder length bob.

"You'll do" said Amrys.

"What was that?" he asked.

"You notice things. That's a good start to be a logicator!" quickly Amrys explained about logicating; and soon thirteen-turn-old Kyilin was a part of the self-help group and a logicator!

Somehow it felt wrong to invite in Torghen; there was nothing offensive about the boy, but he was rather stiff and…..well, boring!

The first lad in came runnerback from another Nabolese Hold; his name was Mirssel, he was thirteen and seemed a nice little boy. The self-help group were polite to him but otherwise left him to his own devices.

Jeral, riding in from Ruatha, was a different matter, as was the girl he had brought with him.

"Sure, and some of yez look like ye've been here long enough t'take root!" the dark haired lad said cheerily "This here's Lyssa and I see one other girl for certain, so it's happy I am she'll be havin' good company."

Lyssa grinned. Her hair was brown with gingery lights and her pale skin freckled easily. Her green eyes twinkled.

"He's a rogue but good hearted enough for sure" she said "And glad it is I'm not a boy t'be sharing a dormitory with him, for he's terrible in the mornings!"

"And a harsh creature she was on our journey, shoutin' at me before the weesweets was hardly up!" complained Jeral with a grin.

They both seemed very nice; and both soon joined the self-help group! Kyilin was glad to have a boy his own age to be friendly with, and they bid fair to make a pair to plague the Masters – especially when Larek arrived to join them from, of all places, Keroon. It soon became apparent the boy had a mischievous sense of humour under his unruly mop of tow coloured hair and his frequent grin was white against his dark features.

Larek explained cheerfully that he had taken apprenticeship in the Hold Weaverhall and had been asked if he would like to volunteer to transfer to the new Hall as he had not yet learned much nor got settled in.

"I think it might have been something to do with the bed full of grubs I organised for the sour old fool of a dyer that led to them asking me to move" he said, opening his eyes with mock ingenuousness.

"Well our dyer's nice and doesn't realise just how good he is, so you leave him alone" said Kevanna.

"You can muck with senior apprentice Serry all you like though" said Amrys, who had found the oldest apprentice's ways of barging in to ask officious questions about what the younger ones were doing to be irritating in the extreme.

"Good-oh!" agreed Serry in Keroonish idiom.

Plenty of other boys started arriving over the next day by various means.

Tirley came in dragonback, with an extremely expensively clad mother inclined to be tearful on parting from him. Amrys knew the Green Rider who had brought them, a youngster from D're's clutch; and wandered over to chat to him. As a face from the weyr – so to speak – he was glad to catch up news! She stood aside when the woman came back to return; and the lad came over to her. He had a green firelizard on one shoulder and was expensively clad.

"I say, do you know D'kiron then?" he asked.

"Yes, I was fostered for a while at the weyr" she explained yet again.

"He's all right" said the boy. "I'm Tirley and I surely hope you other boys won't hold being Ranking against me 'cos I REALLY want to learn, and I'm only a younger son anyway, you know!"

"What Hold?" asked Amrys, curiously.

"Fleecytops."

"Oh yes, you do a lot of weaving there, don't you, predominantly ovine wool? Is that where you got your firelizard – the rivercliffs?" asked Amrys. Fleecytops was south a few miles from Twosprings Hold.

He grinned.

"Yes, that's right! I was determined to have a firelizard to begin my apprenticeship so I went looking at the back end of last summer. She's called Leelee for the noises she makes snoring."

Amrys grinned.

"For your ears only, I'm Ranking too; I'm from Rivenhill Hold here" she said "And my name is Amrys so I'm only one ot the boys by courtesy."

He brightened.

"Well if you don't feel you need to mention your Rank – and you heir and outranking me and all – I needn't either. Say, introduce me about?"

"Let's get you into less fancy clothes if you want to be more anonymous" said Amrys "I'll see you to a dormitory and wait for you to scramble into something plainer. I hope you've got plainer?"

"Some anyway" he said. "Enough to get by until I can ask Master Lynger – he's nice, isn't he? – to take some of my spending money to buy me some other stuff."

Amrys liked the boy; and she readily introduced him about. He was her own age and fit in well with the others; the firelizard having been obtained in the same way Zayven had acquired his and so exciting little comment. Tirley did sigh for another boy his own age, however, for Kyilin, Larek and Jeral were two turns older and as thick as thieves!

As the other boys who had arrived between Larek and Tirley had ranged, in Amrys' view, between 'all right I suppose' and 'idiot' she could but shrug to that!

"There's twenty nine of us here now" she said "I've been keeping tally: we're waiting on one more. And if that dragon is carrying him – or her I suppose – we'll see how that goes."

The Brown dragon was not one Amrys knew; and made no response to her friendly greeting after his Rider had taken the young passenger into the Hall.

"Huh, be snooty then" said Amrys to the amused shock of her gaggle of friends. "where're you from then – Telgar?"

The Brown dragon gave a startled snort and turned huffily away.

The Rider returned.

"Hey, get out of it, you scruffy lot of commoners!" he shouted, shaking a fist at them, leaping up onto dragonback.

"Well, who the fardling shards does he think HE is?" demanded Tirley resentfully when he had got his breath back from such rudeness as the dragon took off.

"A Brown noser – I mean Rider – from Telgar Weyr" said Amrys softly, having noted the Rider's knots. "And not of the same stamp as our Riders, I can tell you!"

"Seems like!" said Tirley. "What an arrogant creep! I wonder who died and made HIM Farranth!"

"Amrys! Amrys, come here a moment my dear!" Master Lynger called.

Amrys ran to him cheerfully and bobbed the curtsey the boys used to greet a master instead of a bow. The Master had with him the boy who had been brought in by Brown dragon. He was a pale, skinny lad with a bruise fading on his cheekbone, though he seemed to have a light of merriness unquenched in his eye.

"Amrys, Jilamon is weyrbred; as you've fostered in the weyr I thought you could show him about and help him adapt" said Master Lynger.

"Certainly, Master. And I didn't need to see the Brown Rider's knots to see HE came from Telgar and a different weyr to what I'm used to" said Amrys disapprovingly.

"Oh?" Lynger was too curious to reprove her.

Amrys pointed to the bruise.

"They did worse to T'mon when he Impressed Denth, and then sent him _Between_ with open wounds from a beating" she said coldly.

"You know Timon?" the boy was suddenly lively, on his feet, all eagerness "Do they let him contract at High Reaches then?"

"Of course! He's a dragonrider – and one of the foremost in the Mountain Rescue Squad because Denth can go where no regular sized dragon can!" said Amrys. "You look a bit like T'mon, is he your brother?"

The boy nodded.

"Our father – Brown Rider St'mon – said I might only stand for Impression if I promised not to pull a stunt like Timon – T'mon – did; and I wouldn't promise because if dragonkind needs help we must give it. My brother said so, and I believe that!"

"Too fardling right!" said Amrys forcefully "Uh, sorry Master." She apologised for swearing. "Well why don't you ask to stand at High Reaches?"

"He wouldn't have let me" said Jilamon, forlornly.

"Oh well, Master Lynger is your guardian now; and he'll say you can, 'cos he's got sense!" said Amrys smiling sunnily at Lynger "But it's not a half bad idea to have a craft behind you as well anyway."

Jilamon had brightened considerably; and his eyes sparkled merrily.

"Why yes, I suppose so!" he said "I say, is ther any way I can get a message to my brother please?" he glanced at the Master.

"Oh, I'll send Sapph" said Amrys "C'mon and meet my friends; if you're only just in age Tirley is so going to be glad to have a boy to hang out with, the other three boys are older and us three girls are a bit of an offence to his manhood. You'll like him; he's fun. Don't worry, Master Lynger" to the master "He'll be just fine!" and talking garrulously about logicating and self help groups she slipped an arm into Jilamon's and led the boy off.

It was a relief to Master Lynger.

Having been approached to take an apprentice from a weyr he had assumed the weyrfolk would be like others of his acquaintance: the generally courteous folk of Fort or the friendly mien of High Reaches. To have it made clear that the boy Jilamon's sojourn as a crafter was intended to be a punishment, a banishment, from as arrogant a Brown Rider as it had ever been Lynger's displeasure to meet had been a shock. The Rider had treated Lynger as an inferior; whereas the Master of his own Crafthall should in theory be considered the social equal of a Bronze Rider Winglleader, and outranking a Brown Rider who was only a Wingman. True, Lynger treated H'llon with deference; but H'llon held a lot more responsibility than the ordinary Wingleader, and Lynger respected him!

He did NOT respect St'mon.

Amrys was furious and wrote to T'mon the moment she had introduced Jilamon to the others.

Within an hour the undersized Brown Denth had arrived; and T'mon and Jilamon had an emotional reunion that the others left them to.

Amrys took the opportunity to tell her friends T'mon's story.

"Very Oldtimer I suppose" said Tirley.

"Well they DID support F'lar over banishing T'kul and T'ron I suppose" Amrys damned R'mart with faint praise "It's their Weyrwoman of course. Weyrs are SO dependant on the character of their Weyrwoman, more so in many ways than the Weyrleader. Because you see all the dragons are attached to their senior Queen and is causes the tone to be set. Bedella's a silly old fart I'm afraid, but don't tell anyone ii said so; weyrs DON'T air dirty linen in public, but I'm not really of the weyr so I don't see why you shouldn't know why they're like that, so long as you're all discreet about it."

"As harpers!" promised Jeral for the others.

Now that all the apprentices expected had duly arrived, their lessons might begin in earnest the next day; and most of the children were full of anticipation!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Senior apprentice Hetel joined the self help group for breakfast; being only a turn older than the three older boys he liked what he had heard them discussing, and like the idea.

"If you like I can be available to help with questions" the ginger haired boy said "It's great to see other enthusiasts."

Naturally he also heard about logicating over the meal and thought it sounded fascinating. The younger apprentices weighed his offer to help, found it genuine, and deigned to permit him to join their group on the understanding he did not push his weight around.

Hetel was happy to agree.

"I despise nags and bullies" he said. "I don't fit in so well with the other older ones – Zayven's all right I suppose – and you lot seem bright and interested and pretty mature for your turns."

"I guess it is lonely being the talented younger one" said Amrys. "Well, if you find us childish, you can always drop out – we'll take no offence!"

Amrys found all their lessons fascinating. She and Tirley and Kevanna were already ahead in the introductory lessons on how fibres were obtained from various sources, animal and vegetable. They would be studying the properties of different fibres over the coming turn, their advantages and disadvantages under various circumstances; that would be under the tuition of Journeyman Otelek.

It did NOT take much to suggest to him that practical trips into the countryside to look at fibre sources in the wild would be valuable experience!

With Journeyman Kevas, Kevanna's father, the class studied basic weaving techniques starting with how to tackle a table loom with just a single heddle – including an explanation of the purpose of the heddle, that Amrys thought a waste of time until some of the class asked questions stupid enough to prove that they had failed to understand even so simple a principle. Once the looms had their warp threads in place, they were to weave a simple tabby-woven piece.

All the girls and several of the boys found this easy, being no more than they had already been doing for many turns; but for some of the boys from Holdbred backgrounds for whom this was the first true introduction to weaving beyond watching aunties and mothers at the craft, it proved more challenging. More than one boy ended up with an hour-glass shaped piece for having no idea how to watch the tension! The three girls, Tirley, Larek and a boy called Jerellan from Crom were quickly set to weave simple plaid patterns while the rest caught up, and were made to take out inches at a time by Kevas. It was extremely encouraging for Kevanna to be one of those who was ahead, and in the class her father taught.

It was soon apparent that the most talented were Tirley and Jerellan. They both had sheer talent, but Jerellan also had some experience. Tirley confessed to using his mother's loom; and Jerellan spoke of a long illness that had left him immobilised for a couple of turns, and he had taken up sewing and weaving initially for something to prevent him being bored, and later for his own satisfaction.

It was a reason for his quiet and introverted mien; and Amrys and the Group warmed to him somewhat and gave him respect!

Knitting was much the same under Journeyman Hetney's eyes; the girls and those who had experience got on very well and many of those who had never knitted got ina terrible muddle! Here a seabred lad, Lalter, shone, his needles clicking like a chittering firelizard!

Master Neen had the help of the ageing Journeyman Belon to teach dyeing; there were potential dangers and the first lesson the children received was on safety. Amrys listened most carefully! Many dyes were at worst poisonous and at best noxious and the use of caustic or acid solutions posed a potential problem to the skin.

Master Neen explained that the first few sevendays would be taken up largely with taking notes about the properties of various dyes and the effects upon them of various mordants. He would permit them one early practical lesson, using onion skins, so they might have the success of having dyed something for themselves; and later they would start to mix various mordants. The Master explained that the apprentices would need a theoretical basis on which to build; and would, once they had covered all the notes he intended to give them, be making their own experiments – within limits – of combining mordants and dyes to build up their own colour books for future reference.

That news was received with more enthusiasm than the prospect of listening to and making notes on tedious sounding information!

Lacemaster Rakul would teach more advanced techniques of knitted lace when the basic knitting skills of the group warranted it; he started them on crochet, tatting and pillow lace, touching also on drawn thread work and embroidery on net, several lessons of each as a taster.

"I will let you determine you own curriculum with this subject as personal preferences vary so" he told them "And you will work on individual projects in each branch of the skill using the patterns we have, and later, in consultation with me, to your own designs. You shall work at each branch at your own pace and I will give you each individual attention as you do so. Thus we cover each skill rapidly now to give you the basic – and very simple! skills to start each. It takes but a few minutes to learn each of the lacecrafts – except knitting – and it takes a lifetime to perfect them."

For the first few sevendays the apprentices would not work at all with Master Designer Telarish, since they were acquiring basic skills first; it would be no good to design without an understanding of the limitations of the craftwork to which they wished to apply their design! Once they had the idea of what was and what was not possible, they might then progress. In the meantime the apprentices did some limited design work under Master Printer Targer; he introduced them to the skills of block printing, screen printing, batik and river-grain paste resist. Batik was a resist technique that had some design features in common with rice paste resist. It was a rare craft; collecting enough wax from berry wax and sugarcane stem was a labour intensive process; the main reason for using batik rather than rice paste resist was to use crackle wax to add a marbled effect to a colour by cracking the wax so that some dye got through.

The Print master encouraged his pupils to carve printing blocks from tubers, easier to carve than wood although only transitory, to appreciate the versatility and limitations of the medium; and let them paint directly onto fabric with rice paste before overdyeing; this being timed to fit in with Master Neen's class of dyeing with onion skins. He also acquired some old paper records whose information had been transferred to hides to let them cut out masks to use with the silkscreens, made with finely woven sisal; for paper could be used as an ephemeral mask providing only a small number of copies were required. He showed them paper- thin masks of the finest parchment, dried out slowly and carefully between uses, and screens used for more complex designs into which resin had been painted as a permanent mask; for such screens could be used virtually for ever. He also showed them the few delicately carved woodblocks the Hall had, and asked H'llon if he would permit his apprentices to demonstrate their skill in cutting the new ones he had ordered! H'llon had been happy to co-operate with another craft and readily sent Ipominea and Serelis to show off their skill. They were working on a pair of blocks that lay over each other in the finished design, Ipominea working on the flowers and Serelis on the leaves and stems between them of a design of Creeping Stranglebug, a pretty but carnivorous weed. Master Targer explained,

"Unfortunately, the wood, even a hardgrained wood, swells and cracks after several turns solid use, and has to be replaced, completely re-carved; and for that we are dependant on the Woodcrafter Hall of course; and grateful to the careful work of the woodcrafters."

"And a boon it is to those of us who are good at carving but have no imagination to produce pretty boxes or such" said Ipominea "For we may be useful and learn our craft and all the brainwork already done for us!" Ipominea's imagination ran entirely to the technical aspect of her craft!

Amrys found herself fascinated by all the ways of adding colour to a surface; and now so many patterns she had seen on fabric started to make sense such as those with white areas blocked out with rice paste, like the lightweight linen brown and white garments popular in Nabol in the summer that were halfway between a shirt and a light jacket, whose only fastening was a tie and might be worn instead of a shirt, or over a shirt in the cool of the evening. Rice paste resist was generally laid on by screenprinting; and Amrys recalled a jacket her mother owned with a darker brown pattern that had probably been screenprinted over the top after dyeing to add more detail. More complex were multicoloured patterns formed by multiple woodblocks built up layer by layer, darker colours overlaying lighter ones, masking them or even blending with them. She appreciated the more now how much went into even printed fabrics!

The final Weavercraft class was needlecraft; and Master Braelek made sure each of the apprentices could produce a variety of simple stitches. His true love was embroidery, but he would also be teaching them tailoring; he and Master Rakul had come to a compromise over the teaching of needle lace; and decided that it would, in all its forms, fall into Rakul's province once the apprentices had learned sufficient needlework skills from Braelek!

In this class, Amrys was the one to shine; she had received a very competent education in needlework of all kinds from her mother, as befitted a Ranking girl. She was able to help the less able, especially amongst her own self help group – Jilamon wielded a needle more, she told him, as if it was a flamethrower than a delicate piece of equipment. Considering the muddle some of the boys got into, Master Braelek's wife Otaysa also helped out; and so did Journeyman Otelek, since he had as yet but few classes with only seniors and beginners. Sewing was probably the technically most demanding class for the beginners, though it would be surpassed in that by more complex weaving techniques as they progressed with that!

The apprentices too would study the rudiments of woodcrafting as it applied to loom construction with Journeyman Woodcrafter Benor; they would aim to build themselves a table loom in the first half turn as well as cutting tablets for tablet weaving and carving sticks for stick weaving. Amrys was glad that she had assimilated a few techniques from H'llon; Benor was not Pern's greatest teacher.

Benor also had no lathe; and Amrys resented that.

She went to see Master Rakul.

"Sir, will you be buying bobbins from the latheshop of Journeyman Acting-Master H'llon at the weyr, or will we be getting a lathe to turn them ourselves and sticks for stick weaving and knitting needles under Journeyman Benor's direction?" she asked.

He gave her a searching, though not unkind look.

"Do you know how to use a lathe, apprentice?" he asked.

She beamed.

"Not yet – or at least, only in theory – but I'm sure we'll soon pick it up if the Journeyman will show us how. Or, if he's not had the opportunity to learn, I expect H'llon would come and teach us!"

"Oh you do, do you?" he asked. "Friend of yours by any chance?"

"Oh yes, I know most of his apprentices quite well" said Amrys cheerfully "They got into trouble with my foster sister and me you see."

Rakul nodded gravely, hiding a smile.

"Well I'll see what I can do. The opportunity to make bobbins in the hall would be useful; I'll talk to Benor."

H'llon arrived two days later and set up a basic pole lathe, with detailed commentary as he did so. He proceeded to give instructions on how to use it, including to Master Rakul. His instructions to Benor were more private; Benor had NOT been one to make the grade when the first few turners were being trained, but instruction and supervision should come, by courtesy, from him; and also by courtesy H'llon had no desire to instruct a fellow woodcrafter in front of the weavers.

It had never occurred to Benor to learn lathecraft to turn bobbins or stick weaving sticks. In truth he was grudgingly grateful to H'llon for the opportunity to learn a new woodcrafting technique, and increase thereby the marks he could earn by his usefulness to the Weavercraft Hall.

"Knitting needles too and the first smoothing of crochet hooks" rumbled H'llon making suggestions cheerfully "And distaffs and spindles. Lots of Weavercraft implications in turning. I'll build you a full treadle lathe in time; but I'll charge you for that. Pole lathe is simple enough and good enough for most of your needs; certainly good enough for your apprentices to use for their rough needs."

Benor was not sure if he was grateful to H'llon for all his help; or if he was so jealous of him that he disliked him intensely! Whatever the Bronze Rider touched seemed to come to him naturally and without difficulty – it wasn't fair!

Kevanna might have felt the same way as Benor about the more talented apprentices but for her loyal group of friends who all hung together to push each other to greater heights than any could achieve alone! Tirley was acknowledged very rapidly to be their resident genius, picking up new skills with alacrity; but he was too nice for Kevanna to resent!

It was Tirley and Jilamon who approached Journeyman Otelek with a proposal.

"Sir" said Tirley "If you proposed a visit to Fleecytop Hold to see the growing of blueweed plants and the wool preparation there too we could go after green firelizard clutches on the cliffs there too."

Otelek gave them an old fashioned look.

"Now what makes you think that's a good idea?" he asked.

Jilamon grinned.

"Because you want a firelizard too, sir; and Tirley knows where they clutch."

"There's no point going before the summer" said Tirley "Any eggs now'd freeze and die. But when it's warmer….like when the blueweed leaves are harvested….and when all the fleeces are in from the cotholds so we could see spinning in the grease as well as spinning of washed wools, carding of course and some dyeing too; plenty to compare a Hold's industry under a couple of journeymen with the full scale operation we have here, and an education of what a Hold based Journeyman might have to do!" he managed to look both innocent and enthusiastic.

Otelek's mouth twitched.

"Well, I'll think on it" he said.

And with that they had to be content!

"He'll go for it" said Jilamon, confidently "He's as hungry as I am for a firelizard; and I bet his father is too!"

"Will the idea get past Master Lynger though?" wondered Tirley.

"Huh, our Otelek can talk the hind leg off a burro if he's set on something" said Jilamon "I LIKE him. I could wish a man like him was my father, not St'mon."

"Silly" said Tirley "He's too young to be anybody's father!"

On the whole, the apprentices reckoned they had a good set of masters and journeymen teachers. Neen was inclined to impatience, and no-one would dream of asking his assistant Journeyman Belon anything; but Neen was in no wise hectoring or bullying towards slower apprentices; he just sighed and repeated things louder.

Kevas also lacked patience; but he at least managed to count to ten when some silly mistake occurred at an apprentice's loom. He was a clever man as well as being talented with the wit to see that self discipline was required to prevent the natural urge to strangle some of his less handy apprentices. The problem was that absent minded and easily distracted boys – which covered most boys and not a few girls – quickly lost concentration and forgot where they were in the complex moving of the tablets for tablet weaving. And nobody could blame Kevas for describing Jilamon's disastrous efforts as resembling Thread more nearly than anything else for the dirty grey even bright colours had assumed from being ineptly mauled over by his grubby fingers.

Kevanna did not make a bad job of tablet weaving; which relieved her mind no end. Talent she might not have in quantity; patience she was gifted with copiously. And the three girls at least stuck to their self help agreement, counting out loud and weaving in unison until they got the hang of it. The three older boys also counted with each other, claiming that the girls went too fast. Tirley was well ahead and had untangled Jilamon several times; for Jilamon was just, as Kevas sighed 'awa' with the firelizards'.

"No sir, he's woolgathering!" quipped Amrys.

It earned her a gentle cuff across the back of the head; but it had made Kevas grin.

And anything that lightened the burden of dealing with the totally confused Jilamon had to be an advantage!


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

It was not long before Kyilin, Jeral and Larek were on bread and water for a sevenday for cooking and dyeing, rolling in waste and hanking pasta strands to leave for the senior apprentices to attempt to weave with. With the fluff of the waste it looked quite convincing….until it was picked up.

The language was quite intemperate to smaller ears listening eagerly.

The evidence was definitely against the three culprits; their nail beds remained a deep onion yellow despite repeated scrubbings.

The three voted it well worth it for the expressions of disgust and frustration on the faces of their elders.

Tirley and Jilamon were uninterested in pranks; their preferred leisure activities - outside of hearing about logicating and practising the skill of observation on harmless targets like Masters – involved exploring, preferably with the sort of climbing that grown ups reckoned was inadvisable. Lyssa, Kevanna and Amrys often joined them; Amrys had explored most of the surrounding countryside since she had returned to Rivenhill Hold and had not needed to act in the way her father had designated a lady should; she and Sagarra had, she reckoned climbed every cliff worth climbing and several that weren't in retrospect – and the major peaks that overlooked the valley; and she had walked for miles with Corbin as he acquainted himself with the lie of the land and with every outlying cotholder. Thus she was able to greet a cotholder by name as they scrambled damply up a waterfall into his secluded but lush valley. There was a gentler path up, but the waterfall was a harder climb and therefore more meritorious in the eyes of eleven turn olds.

"Hello Jisret!" Amrys said cheerfully "You look harassed, what's up?"

Jisret peered close to see what children had invaded his domain and addressed him by name.

"Lady Amrys? Why, you done cut all your lovely hair!" he said "I didn't hardly reckernize you!"

"Oh I'm just apprentice Amrys right now; and it's the rule of the crafthall" said Amrys carelessly, passing quickly over the reference to her title – she fondly hoped – without anyone noticing. "But tell me what's wrong?"

"Ar, that's my lad, Jisser" said Jisret "Him being big enough to mind the ovines now, and Leejis hankerin' after a Beastcraft apprenticeship to improve the cothold that your good ma arranged for him. Well, it be that silly old ewe, Milksweet; she done go off yes'd'y; and Jisser go arter her. And he ain't come back and I'm that addled over it; but I can't leave the beasts nor the babes."

Amrys nodded.

Jisret was a widower, his oldest son Leejis off on an apprenticeship since he turned ten – too young really, but Rillys had talked very fast on the boy's behalf – to learn to improve stock. Whether the boy would stay long enough to gain promotion to journeyman or whether he would return home when he had gained enough knowledge to be useful to his father was debateable; but long term his training should help Jisret. The next child down, a girl called Jillee, kept house, but was nervous of disposition and it would be risky leaving her, let alone the three younger than seven-turn-old Jisser.

"We'll look for Jisser and Milksweet" said Amrys "We have an afternoon off. Jilamon, if I wrote to your brother and ask him to put Denth on standby, if we need the weyr it'll come quick."

Jilamon nodded.

Jisret beamed in relief.

"Ah, if you would look, My Lady, my lords and ladies, that'd set my mind whoolly at rest! That fardling ewe's allus trouble, pardon my language, but there's none give better fleece nor sweeter milk!"

"Let's just hope she hasn't tried to sneak into the weyr and impress a Golden Queen" grinned Amrys.

Jisret raised a laugh at that.

"Ar, and by what they say, iffen her went to Telgar they'd not notice the difference save her'd be more civilised like!" he guffawed.

"Now Jisret! You KNOW I mustn't comment on that!" said Amrys.

Jisret winked, suddenly full of good humour knowing his son was to be searched for!

"Now, you young 'uns wait up, few moments 'on't make no difference, I'll get you dried applerings and some bread and cheese; hungry work climbing about!"

He disappeared into the cot and came out after a few minutes with a substantial package.

"If you're sure, Jisret" said Amrys.

"Ar, I am that, My Lady" he said, thrusting it at her. Amrys thanked him prettily.

Climbing WAS hungry work; and it would have insulted him to refuse.

Besides, Jisret was doing well enough; just not quite well enough to hire more than seasonal hands; and shearing was over and he was on his own again.

"What's this Lady Amrys business?" asked Kevanna suspiciously.

"Oh fardles" said Amrys disgustedly "I was hoping to get away with not mentioning that I'm Ranking."

"You mean your relatives in the Hold are important?" asked Lyssa.

"You might as well come clean" said Tirley "Tell it all scrub; we want the truth."

It was nice of him not to let on that he knew, reflected Amrys; it might have caused resentment. And it was a clever way of advising her that the time had come to be totally honest.

She shrugged.

"My mother is Lady Warder of Rivenhill Hold" she said "And yes, I've fostered in the Weyr, because my father by blood was a creep. Lord Deckter executed him and promoted mother."

"So you've a brother who's a juvenile Holder like Lord Jaxom?" asked Lyssa.

"Uh….no" said Amrys. "It's um, me. Only I want to understand the craft on our Hold doorstep; it's only civil. And I believe the ranking ought to be made to do something helpful anyway. My stepfather agrees; he's brilliant."

"He didn't just pack you off then?" asked Kevanna "I mean, one hears stories…."

"Oh! No! Corbin is the best father anyone could have, though Sagarra disagrees….mind you, before mother met Corbin I could have wished T'lana shared 'cos R'gar's pretty good too so I allow Sagarra her partiality. And R'gar's father is R'cal, who's really nice too. And Corbin used to be a dragonman once" she added softly.

Jilamon paled.

"C'bin? Rode Brown Doroth?"

"That's him – or was. You know him?"

Jilamon nodded.

"He floored St'mon – our father – for beating so on T'mon" he said "I saw it; it wasn't so long after that that Doroth was so badly scored….part of me always wondered if St'mon hadn't done his job properly out of spite…. I was only little of course, you get ideas that aren't necessarily just…."

"Particularly when you hate your father and think there's no evil he won't do" said Amrys. "I hated my real father; you need not be ashamed of it, some fathers are eminently hateable. T'lana says there's no guilt in hating someone who has betrayed you by not being a good parent but that you should pity them their inadequacies if you can. But that makes you almost family! I shall ask Corbin if he'll be your foster father; I'd so like you to be my brother!"

"Aw, fardles" Jilamon said, dashing the back of his hand surreptitiously across his eyes!

The terrain was not easy; mud, slush and rocks had carried down the mountain with the thaw, and the peril of avalanche was still such that they dared not shout for little Jisser, as Amrys explained quickly to those unused to the region.

And that was all of them.

Avalanches were unheard of in Southern Boll where Kevanna grew up; Tirley had lived all his life on a meadow by low rivercliffs; Lyssa hailed from Ruatha Riverhold, a Seahold on the Great Bay at the mouth of a river and Jilamon had led a rather sheltered weyrbred existence taking no risk to speak of.

"Huh, they baby you in other weyrs it seems" said Amrys. "High Reaches expects its kids to be hardy."

"Well, that's not my fault" said Jilamon.

Tirley grinned.

"Y'see? You were born to be brother and sister, you're fighting already!" he said.

They both thumped him lightly.

Amrys followed old ovine trails as best she might to pick a way to go, explaining what she did, what ovine trails were, and how to pick them out. She tried to think like Milksweet, frowning to herself as they stopped to eat half the food provided. She explained,

"I'm trying to think like the ewe – where I'd go if I were ornery."

"Heh, just act natural then!" said Jilamon cheerily, who seemed a different boy with her offer to be his sister and arrange him a good foster father!

Amrys stuck out her tongue amicably.

"Put it away afore a weesweet shit on it" said Tirley grinning. "That clump of flowers up there – would that be inviting to our ornery ewe?"

Amrys stood on tiptoes; Tirley was taller than she.

"Promising" she said. "Let's make like an ornery ovine and go see."

Her friends bleated most of the way up the incline until it got steep enough to use hands as well as feet and needed all their breath for the climb.

"You're all soft" said Amrys without rancour. "Oh look! There's the silly critter! Where's the kid?"

The ewe was across the other side of a narrow ravine; when she had jumped her impetus had carried her on and she had rammed herself head first into a crevice on the other side and her frantic wriggling had stuck her tighter.

A scar of fallen rock near the ewe told its own story; and Amrys went white.

She edged forward and peered down the ravine.

"Jisser? Can you hear me?"

"L-lady Amrys? Is that YOU?" the voice was faint.

"Thank the first egg, the kid's alive…fancy recognising my voice!" said Amrys admiringly. "He's some two lengths down, maybe more. Are you hurt, Jisser?"

"Yes, Lady….my leg….it go the wrong way."

"Very well….I shall come down to you presently, I'm sending for mountain rescue" called Amrys crisply.

She wrote a note on a page in her notebook and tore it out.

"Child, broken leg, ravine; visualisations from Sapph. Need rappelling gear, too narrow for Denth."

Sapph chirruped softly as his little mistress attached the note to his collar and gave him a visualisation of T'mon and that he was to stay to tell Denth; and then he vanished _Between_. She tore out another leaf and sent Em taking a brief explanation to the Master Weaver.

Amrys turned to the others.

"I'm going down to reassure him" she said "I know these mountains like the back of my hand; you types don't. I don't want anyone following even if I fall; is that clear?"

"I don't think anyone but me could" said Tirley "Though Jilamon might."

"Pity we didn't bring a rope" said Jilamon "It'd be like going downstairs with a rope."

Amrys shrugged.

"Well we didn't" she said practically. "You boys watch me go and holler if anything crumbles or I can't find a foothold. You girls, look out for dragons and wave Denth in."

Speaking calmly to the hurt little boy she started to descend.

"Be that duzzy ewe still caught up?" called Jisser.

"She's going nowhere, the old fool; they'll rescue her too, don't worry; she'll be right as rain with water and good grass" said Amrys. "This is a stiffish climb; reckon you'd have had trouble without a broken leg, you know."

"I messed up the jump; the edge went."

"Saw it. Saw where it had went, I mean. It was just hard luck; the edge surely looked solid" said Amrys. "No-one would blame you for the attempt; you had to try it."

"Thanks lady" he said. She'd stand up for him too if the dragonfolk tried to tick him off; she said, he HAD to do it!

Amrys slithered the last few feet with more speed than grace, and passed her water bottle and the rest of his father's bread, cheese and apple to the boy. He drank thirstily and ate ravenously; as well he might.

There were adult voices at the top.

Y'lara's voice yodelled a restrained yodel; she was as alive to the dangers of avalanche as any.

"Healer coming down, kiddie!" she called.

"Lower away!" Amrys called back.

S'ealle arrived in short order; and spoke soothingly to Jisser. He was, after all, of an age with her eldest son.

"What's dad going to do while I can't walk?" asked Jisser, miserably.

"Why, I expect we can lend him a lad from the weyr" said S'ealle. "My son's your age; if you tell him what to do, perhaps he can help; his friend Frane is cotholdbred, between them they could do your job I expect, for a few sevendays, and look on it as a change and an adventure!"

Jisser brightened up, especially at the idea of a cothold bred lad who would have some idea of what he was doing!

During the conversation, S'ealle had induced him to drink some fellis, rubbed numbweed on the break and set it without the boy doing more than wincing; and she strapped it well to strap him to the stretcher she had ridden down on.

"Winch away!" she called. "A new device of H'llon's" she explained to Amrys. "It fits over chasms and works like the winding gear on a well, only with more gears so even a heavy man or runner beast can be lifted by a single female Rider."

"Ingenious" said Amrys, pleased to remember another good and appropriate word "But then, H'llon is."

S'ealle nodded.

"And here come the chairs for us" she said.

Chairs was a grandiose description for flimsy slings of canvas; but Amrys trusted herself to one of them quite happily. The mountain rescue team NEVER skimped on safety; she knew she was at no risk at all.

It was a dizzy sensation ascending on a pair of ropes; and safe she may have been, but comfortable Amrys was not; she felt quite seasick.

Suddenly the little girl could appreciate H'llon's dislike of heights!

Denth had managed to get down on the narrow ledge near the ewe – a skilled piece of flying – and T'mon extracted her bodily and threw her across the ravine to be stopped and held adroitly by Y'lara, who tied a rope about her neck.

"I'll take the lad and this….creature….down to the cothold" she said "Then I'll come back for you lot; Denth can't lift but one passenger and that'll be Jilamon. It's getting late."

"We'll miss supper!" said Tirley, chagrined.

"We had bread cheese and apple" reminded Amrys.

"Yes, but I'm still hungry!"

Y'lara laughed.

"You did a good job you kids; and did all you should do. I'll see the Master Weaver knows all about it and feeds you all well."

"Cuh, thanks Y'lara!" said Amrys. "I confess I'd not mind a proper supper!"

It was dark by the time the children slid of Tanath and Denth – the first time Lyssa had ever been dragonback – and trouped into the Weaverhall. The Master Weaver was waiting anxiously, wondering whether to alert anyone; but confident that if Amrys had the presence of mind to send him a message that they were embarking on a rescue she would most certainly let him know if there were difficulties!

Y'lara was hearty at him as only Y'lara could be. Amrys heard half a phrase of his about untenable risk to a juvenile Lady Holder; and Y'lara's brisk,

"Nonsense! No more than her duty…her mother would expect it of her, and think scorn on her if she balked. Good woman Rillys."

The supper was well worth waiting for too; though bathing was a little perfunctory from overtired children who were ready to fall into bed and go straight to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Tirley had excited the resentment of a boy from Nabol main Hold named Mikize for no other reason than that Tirley came from a Minor Nabolese Hold and would not defer to the boy, a turn or so older than him. Mikize knew nothing of Tirley's Rank – nobody did except Amrys – and openly despised a small Hold like Fleecytops, making comments about ewe-lovers, with the distinct suggestion of unnatural carnal relations that passed right over Tirley's head. That Tirley was also talented had made Mikize's resentment deepen; and that Tirley had a firelizard whose wild Impression the boy made no secret over. Mikize would never consider anything so risky as climbing cliffs for firelizard eggs!

The morning after rescuing Jisser, Mikize was on hand when Tirley went to wash to sneer and say,

"Well, I wager Master's pet is on water rations for being out so late and coming back looking like you were dragged through a hedge backwards!"

Tirley worked on not grinding his teeth and managed a bright smile.

"Truly?" he said "What do you wager?"

"It was only a figure of speech" said Mikize, huffily.

"But I take you up on it. What do you wager I'm on a water diet?"

"All bubbly pies for two months" snapped Mikize.

"Done" said Tirley, cheerfully, and splashed his face perfunctorily, whistling insouciantly to himself through the drying cloth.

"Witnessed" said Jilamon.

Far from being under punishment, the Master Weaver praised the five for giving up their leisure to seek for a lost, indeed injured, child; and more to the point that they had had the sense to send messages to that effect.

"Journeyman Otelek tells me that green firelizards clutch in the river cliffs to the east; he will be taking an expedition of volunteers to find some" he added "When it if warmer; for if more of you boys had a well trained firelizard I should worry less about you in this inhospitable region."

Lyssa put up a hand.

"Yes my child?" said Master Lynger.

"And girls sir. You said 'you boys' but some of us boys are girls" she pointed out pedantically.

Master Lynger had a brief coughing fit.

"Why of course, so you are" he said. "I am so sorry my dear; no offence was intended. I should have said 'you apprentices'."

Amrys kicked Lyssa under the table.

"That wasn't called for" she muttered "We know what he meant."

"But t'be sure, some might not av known; and be thinkin' that he only wanted boys t'have firelizards!" said Lyssa "We've enough t'contend with without some eejit thinkin' he meant ghirls t'be deprived!"

Amrys considered that.

"I concede the point. Sorry I kicked you." she said. "I don't THINK anyone here's so hidebound but I guess we have to be wary in case they are. Without Y'lara around to break bones."

Lyssa giggled.

"Does she? I thought she was really nice!"

"Oh, she is; except to people who are really horrid. Then she starts off strident – isn't that a lovely descriptive word – and moves on to violent."

"I'd not mind flying a Green dragon like hers t'be sure" said Lyssa.

"Ah well, you've plenty of time to apply to the Weyr" said Amrys cheerfully. "Master Lynger won't be happy if High Reaches steals half his apprentices though, so don't tell too many people, huh?"

Kevanna joined the conversation.

"You mean only let High Reaches steal the best of us?"

"That's the idea!" grinned Amrys.

Before any search for firelizard eggs could be organised, the news on everybody's lips, as brought by a trader, was of the theft and return of a Queen egg from Benden! The trader's tale was a little garbled; and worrying besides for those with firelizards already for he told the rumour that Benden dragons were flaming firelizards and the Benden Weyrwoman was demanding that all firelizards be put down as it was firelizards who had stolen the egg! That firelizards had already sent frightened images of being flamed as a 'memory' to their owners – who had needed to take time out from lessons to fuss their little pets out of panic – added some credence to this tale!

"It's wherry teeth" said Amrys scornfully "If firelizards assisted in a theft I guess some might have been flamed as a warning, but the Benden Weyrwoman just can't do that! I'll write to T'lana and get the truth of the matter."

A young Green Rider delivered an official communiqué to Master Lynger to read out; and, as Jeral reported back cheerfully, went personally to thump the trader for spreading stupid an unfounded rumours.

The communiqué explained that an egg had been stolen and returned; and had since hatched without any trouble; and that the thieves had used their firelizards to spy. The Benden Weyrwoman was not currently enamoured of these little creatures and requested that all wear collars with the colours of their place of origin. It was believed that dragons flamed firelizards who were helping with the mystery retrieval of the egg. There was nothing to be concerned about; and High Reaches Weyr would guarantee to defend the safely of all local firelizards. Sympathy too was asked for D'ram of Ista whose weyrwoman had died; the Weavers might have noticed her passing as many firelizards keened with the dragons for her Queen.

The weavers had noticed; but no word had been received of it being a dragon they knew and so had ignored it.

"In other words" said Lyssa cheerfully once they had listened to the statement read out "Lessa threw a hissy fit and is still comin' down from it and sorra a thing t'be done about it. Sure, and isn't she then from Ruatha like all the best weyrwomen; and isn't she as volatile as any might be!"

"Let's hope she grows up and gets over it" said Amrys scornfully "Grown ups didn't ought to behave so. Maybe she's on the change; that can make ladies snippy."

Finding that she had a better grasp of female biology than the other girls – Rillys believing in good preparation – Amrys explained the matter to two frankly disgusted little girls when they looked blankly at her.

"YUK!" said Kevanna "I don't believe it!"

Amrys shrugged.

"Ask your mother then" she said "You need to know; people can start as young as us, you know."

Kevanna promptly ran off to do just that.

She was back in time to slip into the printing class beside the others.

"Mother says it's all true!" she hissed to Lyssa, in a scandalised tone, pulling a face. "She was going to tell me but it slipped her mind in the move here!"

"EYEW!" reiterated Lyssa. "Well what can't be cured must be endured, and sure I hope it'll be a while before I'm having t'endure it!"

The conversation was interrupted.

"WHAT is so fascinating to you girls that you must chatter like weesweets?" demanded Master Targer irritably.

"Periods" said Amrys, brightly.

The Master flushed.

"Oh" he said inadequately. "Well try to pay attention from now on!" he added lamely.

Otaysa called the girls in to see her; and house mother for the girls the Sewncraftmaster's wife was concerned having received a garbled and embarrassed report from Master Targer.

"Which of you girls has started bleeding?" she asked bluntly "And do you need any help?"

"Oh! None of us yet, thank you, Otaysa" said Amrys breezily "I just had to explain it to the others 'cos they didn't know what I was talking about when I said I 'spect Lessa's out of sorts 'cos she's on the change. We'll ask soon enough when we need all that extra padding and underlinen and stuff."

"Good. I'm glad you'll all be sensible about that" said Otaysa, fighting to keep a straight face.

The idea of the Benden Weyrwoman, not yet forty turns old and still considered to be one of the most attractive women on Pern by many, being thought old enough for that change of life was hilarious.

The story spread without ado throughout the entire Weavercraft Hall, and indeed found its way back to Southern Boll to the parent Hall; where Masterweaver Zurg was torn between outrage – for Lessa was an asset to his best designs – and amusement at the perceptions of the very young!

If the rumour ever reached Lessa that she was snippy because she was 'of a certain age' no-one ever heard of it save perhaps F'lar; and a wise weyrmate never discusses such things.

While most people were still marvelling the sevenday wonder of the stolen egg, that displaced the talk of the exploits of Amrys and friends, Amrys had sent a missive to her parents explaining – in rather cramped writing, not to overburden Sapph – all about Jilamon.

Corbin and Rillys came to the Weaver Hall for a long talk with Master Lynger; and Jilamon was summoned out of lessons.

He had the rest of the afternoon off; and when he returned he was crying with joy and embraced Amrys fiercely.

"Your parents are wonderful!" he said "And now I'm your brother! They talked to T'mon and he's their kin too by courtesy! I – I'm so happy; it's wonderful belonging to people you're not ashamed of and not having to feel guilty about how you feel!"

"what about your mother?" asked Amrys, hugging him back.

"My mother? I don't think I ever met her" said Jilamon "I was fostered by three women….My mother is Rillys now!"

"BEST of brothers!" grinned Amrys.

Following this it was deemed a good time to go searching for firelizard eggs; Master Weaver Lynger had been in discussion with the weyr and found them enthusiastic endorsers of the idea of more people having firelizard eggs as messengers and ready to loan both transport and a skilled trainer of firelizards in the person of R'cal and his weyrmate A'ira. Y'lara and Z'linda also came along to help ferry people, bringing their weyrmates M'kel and Z'kan. M'kel permitted his eldest son Mikas along too as a last minute addition!

"A couple of our candidates did wild Impression on the cliffs you're looking at searching on" said Y'lara cheerfully "So it's definitely late enough in the turn for them to be viable."

Naturally all the youngsters had volunteered to help; a trip out, and dragonback, was not to be missed!

Y'lara raised an eyebrow and went blank eyed for a moment; and shortly thereafter another Green and two Brown dragons arrived. One of the Browns and the Green looked very young.

"Sh'anne and E'ledur know the cliff in question" said Y'lara "And T'ral weyrs with Sh'anne so he's come too." Introductions out of the way she began loading up apprentices.

When it came down to it, three of the boys balked at actually getting onto dragonback; and several more were plainly terrified. And the Riders took the opportunity to note who might be worthy of Search!

"You fancy riding a dragon one day, son?" Z'kan asked Jeral. "You're of an age with my fosterling R'enn."

"Sir, you bet, sir!" Jeral was loving every minute of the flight "But my parents have gone without to get me this apprenticeship, to see I'm equipped for it. I'd let them down if I didn't make it at least to senior apprentice, better Journeyman!"

"Lad, you're a man" said Z'kan, approvingly. "There's a white tunic waiting for you whenever you're ready; and if you send word, I'll collect you myself!"

"THANK you sir!" gasped Jeral.

For a Brown Rider to stand sponsor was a great honour!

Lyssa had a not dissimilar discussion with Y'lara.

"I think Tanath is lovely" the little girl said "Do you think that one day I'd have the chance of Impression?"

"I do" said Y'lara "I suggest you wait awhile; though you are seabred and we do grow up young."

"Less on the Big Bay I think than on the wild west coast" laughed Lyssa "I don't want to Impress yet; I want to be a giddy apprentice for a few turns before I have to be sensible!"

Y'lara laughed sympathetically.

"Oh I can appreciate that – as you've been given the option, rather than marriage the only step to take" she said. "You enjoy yourself kiddie; and we'll have a nice crop of Journeyman Weavers to Impress in a turn or two!"

It was a given that Jilamon was for the Weyr; M'kel spoke to him.

"Your brother's a friend of mine" he said "And if you want to come straight to the Weyr for this clutch, nobody'll think any the worse of you, or that you've thrown up your apprenticeship, because it wasn't exactly voluntary!"

Jilamon thought hard about it, changing colour several times.

"Sir, I – think if I didn't prove myself half competent I'd let myself down and make a victory for my – for the man who sired me" he said. "I want to succeed and THEN Impress. Besides, I have new parents who I want to prove myself to, and a sister to take care of."

M'kel hid a smile.

Amrys needed taking care of the way a wherry needed a runner and cart; but it was a worthy thought.

"We do like older candidates in with those who stand the minute they've turned twelve" he said "it gives us a cadre of steadier boys. When you feel ready lad, in consultation with Rillys and Corbin, you come. He does know you want to?"

Jilamon nodded.

"He's keen for me to stand: but he prefers me to wait until I'm turned fourteen" he said. "He IS a dragonman after all."

"Yes, lad, he is" said M'kel softly "Once a dragonman always a dragonman; and the greater shame to those who don't support their position as well as they ought. We honour your NEW father in the Weyr!"

It was a Gatherday atmosphere, unpacking baskets of meatrolls on the meadows in front of the cliffs. Tirley had obtained his father's permission for the excursion – he had to reveal his Rank to Master Braelek, to the pleased surprise of that worthy over his further reticence – so there would be no conflict over the presence of fifty assorted weavers and dragonfolk!

"Dear me, how very pleasant this is!" said Master Lynger. "Zayven, Tirley, you know what you're looking for; I put you in charge of the searching."

The boys grinned at each other; there were three turns between them, but the shared experience made a bond!

"Glad we're not in my old Hold territory anyway" said Zayven. "Holder Bitrul loathes firelizards and isn't keen on dragonfolk either!"

Tirley's eyes widened.

"I didn't know that!" he said "I know my father loathes him, but…"

"Your father's got some position in Fleecytops Hold I gather?"

Tirley nodded.

"The Masterweaver went through him; we're here with the Holder's permission" he said.

The boys decided to divide up the apprentices into groups of four to climb the cliff, each under experienced climbers as team leaders. They had ropes and pitons to help the less able.

When it came to the crunch however, less than half the lads were prepared to actually tackle the steep climb! When it came down to it the only ones to manage the climb were Amrys and her seven friends and five others, three of them from Tillek, and used to seacliffs in the case of two, and tall timber in the case of the other, an older lad named Traal.

"We'll be bringing eggs down to distribute anyway, so it doesn't matter" said Amrys. "They'll go to the Masters and Journeymen first; then senior apprentices and then I vote that those who made the climb and have none of their own have the first pick."

"That's fair enough" said Journeyman Otelek; he and his father were both skilled climbers. "Rewards for efforts. In fact I think the climbers should have pick before senior apprentices who don't."

"I agree" concurred Master Braelek. "I also suggest climbers take meat in case of fortuitous hatching. A shame to waste an opportunity if it presents itself."

The idea was enthusiastically taken up.

The climb began!


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

It was perhaps a disappointment to the searchers that none of the eggs was hardened enough to hatch. Seeking widely up and down the cliffs some nine clutches were discovered, many of them with as many as six eggs; and the total number of eggs when counted was four dozen,

"Some won't be viable" said Zayven "Generally they're lighter weight, especially once they've started to harden."

"Zayven" whispered Amrys "how about hanging on to a light one, and if we have to gift the seniors, seeing that Serry gets it? I'd hate for a firelizard to have to look to him; and he'd only use the poor little thing to spy, you know."

Zayven hesitated; then nodded.

There were some forty probably viable eggs once the lightest had been discarded.

"Pity we can't tell the colours" said Zayven "But I guess these ones are just slightly bigger; I say they go to the Masterweaver, Master Braelek and Journeyman Otelek because they're the decentest."

"Seconded" said Amrys.

"Carried" her friends added in unison.

Back in the crafthall the eggs were distributed and labelled before being set on the hearth in batches according to when they should hatch. One was not to stay in the crafthall; the apprentices thought it only fair that small Mikas should have an egg for his help and agile scrambling, that had included passing up eggs with great aplomb whilst being dangled out over the cliff held by the ankles, there being a nest which was otherwise inaccessible!

Mikas had hoped of course – but was still delighted and thanked the weavers very much, tucking his egg proudly into his tunic to keep it warm on the way back to the Weyr!

It took some little contrivance to have the lighter egg labelled for Serry; but it was managed!

That left nine eggs over.

Three were quickly assigned by popular consent to give Masters Lynger and Braelek and Journeyman Otelek an extra one each in case their primary egg was a dud!

"I think those who helped who already have firelizards should have an egg each" said Otelek quietly.

"Sir, I think it would be better to offer them to the support staff" said Tirley, after struggling with his better self.

It was he, Zayven, Amrys and Kevanna who were involved; and the four children exchanged looks.

Amrys nodded.

"He's right" she said "We have the pleasure of owning firelizards; it should be shared around, at Hiliana's discretion.

Zayven grinned.

"We can always look for more if we're home on vacation, Tirley and me; and Amrys has two and Kevanna has a bronze. Fair Kevanna?"

Kevanna nodded.

"Sheen is lovely" she said "And I need no other."

"There's good generous children" said Master Lynger, tremendously proud of his apprentices!

R'cal warned the weavers that the clutches would all hatch at different times – which is why he had batched the eggs by hardness – and that there would be considerable disruption of routine off and on over the next few sevandays! Two clutches could be expected to hatch in the next few days, but one at least would need to harden for almost the whole five sevendays that a clutch required to mature!

Even so, supper was a hilarious meal, spiced up by R'cal's stories of a secret island where the weyrfolk got their firelizards! Otelek told a story improbable enough to be true of his youth, hunting – fruitlessly – for firelizard eggs, this being before the existence of firelizards had been confirmed by Menolly's Impression of nine, and when he was first an apprentice; and how he got caught out in Fall!

"I'd like to say I outran it like Menolly" he said "But I guess you'd never swallow that heavy embroidery…. I clung to a rock on a ledge scarce wider than my feet recommended only by being under an overhang that protected me, shivering in my shoes. HOW my father whacked me!"

There was laughter; it was hard to imagine Master Braelek whacking anyone!

"I did too" said Braelek "First time I'd laid a finger on him; and that was for not consulting the Fall charts and scaring me half to death when I found out the little monkey was out in Fall!"

His voice was gruff, remembering; and Amrys reflected how hard her mother and Corbin would punish HER for pulling such a stunt! Of course, Otelek had more excuse, because the earliest years of his childhood must have been during the Interval; he must have been eight or ten before the Pass began, and had not had the habits set from his earliest days!

"Speaking of Fall, it's Fall tomorrow" said Master Lynger "Our dragonrider friends will want to get their rest in preparation I expect?"

R'cal nodded.

"None of your eggs'll hatch until after Fall" he reiterated "I shan't stay with you until they're all hatched but I'll be in frequently if that's all right by you people; I might even get to learn something useful!"

"You're welcome to sit in on any class any time, Blue Rider R'cal" offered the Master Weaver politely "We always like to help the Weyr. And we shall be offering classes soon to paying students too – that of course weyrfolk are welcome to attend at no charge"

"Thank you" said R'cal "I'll pass that on; but we'll at least make donation for skills learned; you're a new Hall and should not waive too many fees!"

"Well, that's generous, R'cal" smiled Master Lynger.

Amrys, Tirley, Jilamon and Jeral presented themselves to walk sweep the next day.

"But you're only children!" said the Master Weaver in consternation.

"Sir, you've precious few adults here; and all of us have walked sweep before at least once" said Amrys earnestly. "Jeral's Ruathan; and the rest of us have parents who expect it."

"Well, if you're handy with agenothree sprayers I don't deny it would be useful" admitted the Master "As you have experience."

"Some of the others were willing to join us, but I thought you'd be chary first time of those without experience" said Amrys "You know – when we're all used to working as teams it's easier to slot in greenhorns."

"Oh quite" Master Lynger had to smile at her self assured manner. And yet she was probably as experienced as many an adult, he told himself, with so conscientious a mother and having spent time in the weyr too. He was surprised and pleased to have even a few so courageous apprentices; to have willing greenhorns too was gratifying in the extreme!

The Weavercraft Hall, like most Holds and Halls, went out to walk sweep once Fall was signalled past.

"Rivenhill Hold walks from after leading edge is past" said Amrys "With steady people on overwatch with flamethrowers; will we be working with the Hold sweep teams?"

Lynger was startled.

"I've never been out while it's still in close sight falling" he admitted "We've been assigned areas; the Hold folk will still be out to redirect us if we go wrong first time. We go out after All Clear sounds."

Amrys nodded acquiescence. He was the Master after all.

Maybe she could work on him.

Clearing the few – the very few – burrows that got past the High Reaches Riders was quicker and easier to do the sooner they could be found; and was less destructive. She would ask Corbin to chat to the weavers about how much havoc a single Thread could wreak in a stand of flax. It was now coming into flower, fields and fields of rippling blue, almost like deep mountain lakes when seen from a distance!

Most of the apprentices were in a state between apprehension and terror over Threadfall.

"You are a bunch of ninnies" said Amrys amicably to a bunch of shivering boys "it's not like you haven't grown up knowing Thread. Why the old folk, over fifteen turns old, had to learn to get used to it; but for the rest of us it's just a way of life. Threadfall every seven sevendays is how it is, like all things in nature as regular as taking a shit. Nothing to get excited about; there's been Fall since the Hall was built and it held together then. It'll hold together now."

"Oooh, was there some risk it wouldn't?" cried Jerellan.

"No of course not, little idiot" said Amrys, conveniently forgetting that Jerellan was two turns older than she. "I'm just pointing out that this is a secure place like any Hall, Hold or Weyr. No need for the pack of you to scitter about like gontermorras without a burrow! I'm s'prised at you, Jerellan, you've bravery in you to overcome illness so severe, I thought you had more in you!"

Jerellan flushed.

"You – you think I was brave?" he asked.

"Tremendously. And I think you can pull yourself together over this if you don't let some of these idiots sway you" her arms swept round encompassing the knots of frightened boys, not excluding some of the most senior apprentices!

She had to hand it to Serry; for all his faults the boy had put on Wherhide and collected an agenothree spreader and seemed to be handling himself well. Though she could not help wondering if he was just too stupid to be afraid!

Jerallan swallowed hard and pulled herself visibly together. Younger than most she might be; but Amrys was a leader amongst the apprentices and Jerellan definitely sought her good opinion!

The whole of the Weavercraft hall assembled in the main hall during Threadfall; lessons were not attempted. Amrys and her set got out their knitting to while away the time; the first warning siren, a series of staccato moans to get the attention, went an hour before leading edge approached the region to give people time to get under cover if they did not have access to time charts. The second klaxon went ten minutes before the Leading Edge passed over, a rising and falling note, very eerie. Threadfall itself only lasted a scant ten minutes of so in any one location; but the All Clear, a steady note, would not go until ten minutes after the trailing edge cleared the entire region Beholden to Rivenhill. With ten minutes grace at each end and allowing for the size of the district that meant almost an hour from main warning to All Clear. With the different sounds of each warning, it was impossible to make a mistake over which klaxon was sounding; which was the general idea.

And Thread would have passed this particular point some twenty to twenty five minutes before the All Clear was sounded; Amrys sighed impatiently, and bent her mind to concentrating on the sleeve she was knitting.

Corbin would HAVE to speak to Master Lynger; maybe he could compromise by sending a runner to knock after trailing edge had passed!

The Hold sweep walkers were still out when the Hall emerged; they looked to have almost completed their sweep.

Corbin strode over; he did not look happy.

"Edge went over thirty minutes since" he said, quietly enough to Master Lynger to keep the complaint private. "Are your people not well enough trained to do their duty? Do you need help? You should have asked me before. Surely Amrys told you that we don't risk our stands of flax by being tardy?"

Lynger flushed.

"We were taught to come out after all clear" he said "You expect some losses to crops…"

"Not here we don't" said Corbin grimly "We take any loss of crops as carelessness. Maybe our Holds in the north are wider for having poorer land and the klaxon more widely spread; but for that reason we can less afford to throw any away as soft southerners might" Corbin started trying to be diplomatic but gave up in favour of blunt. "We've a huge new stand of flax for your Hall; and I had to assign a team to cover it."

"Holder Corbin" Amrys had managed to sidle close to eavesdrop "Could you perhaps send someone to let the Master Weaver know the minute Thread has passed by? Would that be a fair compromise?"

"I – yes, if you would be so good" said Lynger. The child had tried to warn him; receiving a rebuke, mildly as it was phrased was his own fault! "The – the mountains will hide Thread from view, won't they?"

Corbin nodded.

"I'd be obliged for your co-operation" he said, shaking the Weaver's hand.

No-one else had overheard the exchange but Amrys; Corbin had made sure of that to save the Master Weaver's face; and Lynger appreciated that! Amrys was, after all, discreet – and sensible!

The final Impressions of firelizards took place after the Hatching at High Reaches – Amrys did not attend, thinking it impolite – and the disruption continued while firelizards were fed to repletion and received their first training! Serry was disappointed; but never in his baffled fury did he imagine that it had been anything but the worst bad luck!

Journeymen certainly reported an increase in efficiency; a man with a firelizard could operate a wider loom than a single man could usually manage, though the big broadcloth looms still required two men for their strength. The purpose of the Weavercraft Hall was, after all, to produce cloth, not merely to teach, and the journeymen and senior apprentices needed to do some work to that end while the thirty or so apprentices were caught up on basics before they might be of real use to the craft.

There was to be a late summer Gather at Rivenhill, however, late enough to have an apple market of the earliest maturing apples, followed by a late autumnal one for the rest. Rillys had been buying in saplings to increase the orchards on the wide, flat river plain of the lower reaches of the Esvay Valley as well as going for fabric crops like flax and various dyers' weeds like weld, dyer's greenweed and blueweed, though the latter grew better on the lime-rich uplands above the river. Onions of course were a good food sourse as well as the skins producing rich yellows and browns, and Rillys encouraged the growing of them too in cotholds. There were already some orchards, started by Derrinick's father under the predecessor to Lord Meron; and many cotholders were keen to expand into applegrowing, as the trees would grow on the poorer soil at the edges of the valleys they cultivated. Their fallen leaves would too help to enrich the land.

Few of the apprentices had managed to produce much for sale; but a few of them had items to present for inspection, to have a Weavercraft-stamped label sewn on. The Crom boy, Jerellan, had managed a couple of soft plaid scarves and a shawl; Tirley had managed a quite complex plaid shawl and a number of twilled cotton ribbons as well as a knit pair of mittens. He had hoped to finish a length of tatted lace, but it was not quite ready!

The three girls each presented plaid shawls; Lyssa had a lot of knitwear and Kevanna had managed a length of crochet lace. Amrys had begged wood off-cuts from Journeyman Benor and had covered a box with exquisitely embroidered satin. Her knitwear she asked if she might pay for herself; as she wanted the tiny moss-stitched coat and hat to go to her baby sister for the winter; and Journeyman Hetney had been happy to permit that!

"Nice to see someone thinking of their siblings" he said. "Wish my boy had living siblings; reckon he'd have liked to have knit for them too."

"Yes, I reckon he would; Hetel's a very decent sort" said Amrys earnestly "It's nice to be able to say that with a clear conscience and not crossing my fingers behind my back too" she added candidly.

Hetney laughed.

"Yes, I imagine it can be hard if a boy's father teaches if the lad is not a decent sort" he said "I'm glad you like him. He says you kids who do self help are like the brothers and sisters he never had."

"Why, that's most awfully nice of him!" said Amrys, moved. "We'll include him more then and not escape him occasionally on grounds of him being a big one."

Hetney laughed again.

"Do you just say the first thing that comes into your head, young Amrys?" he asked.

"Oh, only with people I like" said Amrys ingenuously. "If it's someone I don't like I tend to be more circumspect because you have to be tactful with creeps and idiots."

Why he laughed so hard was a complete mystery to Amrys!

Amrys and Jilamon were to eat their midday meal at the Hold with Rillys and Corbin; and Amrys told her other friends regretfully,

"It's not that I wouldn't invite you, only it's the first time Jilamon got to spend time with real parents. And you all grew up with parents, so you had your good luck. I want him to feel special for once." The three older boys and Hetel had, of course, been told about her background too; it would have been unfair to leave them out once the confidence had been shared.

Jeral nodded and punched her arm lightly.

"Sure, and don't we all take it for granted!" he said "Steal us some goodies, huh?"

Amrys laughed.

"Anyone would think we weren't well fed in the Hall! But if I ask, mother will gladly pack a goody basket. We can have a midnight feast and invite the other dormitories too!" she said. The apprentice wing had been built with eight dormitories each holding twelve beds in anticipation of growing numbers; the younger boys had sorted themselves out into three dormitories generally along the lines of friendships and shared interests. As they were all new, a lot of leeway had been given to them this first turn! The senior apprentices all shared a fourth dormitory, at the end of the corridor nearest the journeymen's rooms.

The girls rattled about together in the dormitory at the other end, next to the masters' sleeping wing and infirmary.

It was a popular idea to have a feast!

"And if Master Braelek and Otaysa hear us, they're good sports and will only break it up if we make too much noise or go on too late" said Amrys cheerfully, referring to the occupants of the nearest Masters' suite. "We'll go to your dorm; it's furthest from the journeymen save ours; and I think it would be impolite to expect Master Braelek to turn a deaf ear to our dormitory right next to his."

Kevanna giggled.

"I'll say!" she said.

"Sure, and that's the right av it!" agreed Lyssa.

The event was planned; all they had to do was get the food smuggled in after the Gather!


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

The apprentices looked with dismay at dark clouds weeping sore on the Gather day.

"Huh" said Amrys "'Rain afore you break your fast, Isn't rain that's like to last'. It'll be fine by midday and likely enough before it" and with that she clattered down to eat breakfast with good cheer. She would be out in the rain, having volunteered to help erect the stall for the journeymen to run; but as she said,

"People don't melt in rain!"

It was miserable; the rain was chill and penetrating, almost like mist with lumps of water in it, as Jeral described it.

"Welcome to the High Reaches" said Amrys. "The weyrfolk say we have the crankiest weather on Pern. You should be glad it doesn't rain fish like it does sometimes in Tillek."

"Sure, and that's a bounce if ever I heard one!" said Jeral in disbelief. "I never heard of such a thing!"

"Ask Traal, then, or Sherek or Lalter" she shrugged, naming the three lads from Tillek.

"Never seen it as far inland as I live, but I heard about it" confirmed Traal.

"There was a massive fishfall over the winter" said Sharek, who hailed from Tillek Main Hold. "No-one was out in it 'cos it was during Fall, but I heard the dragonmen grabbed enough fish out of the air to have fish pie for a sevenday."

"Only one day" said Amrys "Sagarra said all the Queenriders were laughing about it because it only got the high level, mostly the Bronze and Brown riders."

"Shells, you really are serious!" said Jeral. "WELL! That beats one of Journeyman Otelek's tall stories any day!"

It cheered them up no end as they manoeuvred wet, heavy canvas that would prevent too much weather – rain or shine – falling on whoever would be manning the stall!

By the time the stall was up, the rain had reduced to an intermittent mizzle and a watery sun was doing its betermined best to shine through thinning cloud.

"See?" said Amrys.

"Y'know, being right too often is a MOST unattractive trait" complained Larek cheerfully. "Right, lads?"

"Oh, only if she's right about bad things" laughed Kyelin. "Is that a bubbly pie stall?"

"Don't buy from that one" said Amrys dismissively, glancing over "Leselina's pastry is no great shakes. The stall that's going up over there is owned by the lightest pastry maker east of the weyr; and if we help out, Salluna will likely give us one each for our trouble."

The others needed no further bidding!

Salluna was deeply grateful for help; and soon Amrys and friends were crummily and stickily happy!

The Weyr had a small stall here; Amrys suspected that it was more because her family were friends of the weyr than because they anticipated any great profit from so small a local Gather. T'mon was manning it while Denth dozed in a patch of sun as yet too small even for him. T'mon waved cheerily and the apprentices went over.

"Hello bro, sis!" said T'mon cheerily to Jilamon and Amrys.

They grinned at him.

"What can I tempt you with?" the young Brown Rider said. He wore the white embroidered star-shaped flower that was the emblem of the Mountain Rescue and denoted that his efforts had saved at least one life; and he wore it proudly in the middle of his Rider's knots. He had earned it many times over for the lives he had saved, largely thanks to Denth's ability to get into tighter spots than a regular sized dragon! The emblem was well respected, and it brought in custom too!

"I'll have some of H'llon's bobbins please" said Amrys "I can't carve enough to keep up with what I need. And yours are ready beaded!"

"Courtesy of Petrilla, our favourite Holdless Lady" grinned T'mon "She makes 'em of scrap glass. What about some nice nesting boxes all in a workbox for your embroidery threads?"

"It is a nice one" said Amrys, stroking the rich walnut veneer with its inlay pattern of dragons round it. "Is that marquetry done with the new machine Sagarra mentioned?"

"Sh, don't give all our secrets away!" laughed T'mon. "Yes it is; pretty good, isn't it? A man could scarcely cut the line better by hand!"

"I'll have it" said Amrys "Lyssa and Kevanna and I can share it."

"We don't embroider as exquisitely as you do anyway" said Lyssa "so we shan't take up much room if you'll let us have a corner each!"

"My pleasure!" said Amrys, handing over the marks. At just five and a half marks it was well worth it; and meticulous work for an apprentice piece as it was stamped! "Tell Radall I'll enjoy it – that is his work, isn't it?"

"You've a good eye" said T'mon "Yes it is. How did you know?"

"The boxwood stringing is done by hand; Ipominea only does marquetry under protest and Serelis is less likely to use a machine cut dragon. I don't know Diccon but I think this is still beyond him?"

"Right on all counts!" laughed T'mon!

Amrys wanted too to visit a Minercraft stall and buy some more beads for bobbins; miners often carved beads as a way to pass the time and use up off-cuts of decorative stones. They often strung them together to sell at Gathers, but would also have some loose for people to personalise their own jewellery! Amrys asked for a mixed pound weight of beads, for which she paid a mark, working on the principle that she might pass some of them on to others to attach to their own bobbins. Amrys, after all, had little need to count the marks too carefully, though she had been taught thrift, and moreover had no intention of flashing her marks about to the envy of others. And gifting friends a few beads at a time showed less than buying them things at a gather! Amrys knew that being too generous could engender resentment; her mother had explained all that before she enrolled as an apprentice; and told her little girl that she must be generous in her sharing but not let her friends feel oppressed by generosity for being unable to reciprocate, lest they accuse her of trying to buy friendship.

Amrys understood proud destitution; when she and her mother had first gone to the Weyr they had effectively had nothing because of the cruel and unfounded jealousy of her father, Derrinick!

Accordingly she asked the others, rather nervously,

"Look, you know Tirley and Jilamon and me are a bit better off than some of you, would you people be offended if we three pooled resources to stand everyone hog roast and all the trimmings for a mid morning snack?"

"If it's offered in friendship not to show off your wealth there's never any offence" said Jeral "And you don't show off, so ye don't you ranking types, nor our resident weyrbred. And didn't me pa say t'me, that it's as gracious t'accept as t'give and not give offence by bein' too proud; so we'll just be hangin' on yer sleeves like poor relations t'be sure!" and he winked.

Amrys grinned in relief.

She had thought the friendships well enough established to allow her to use her wealth without causing ill will; for she saw agreement with Jeral in the faces of others – and that his father's admonition had made them thoughtful!

It was lovely to be able to hug Rillys and Corbin without restraint within the Hold! Jilamon was a little more stilted, but Rillys hugged him to her enthusiastically and Corbin clapped him on the shoulder happily! Both admired his little blue firelizard, Indigo; and Jilamon explained,

"Well as well as the rich deep colour, if he sees anything he can disrupt, In 'E Go!"

Everyone laughed!

Amrys was also glad to hug her little sister, whom she had not seen for several months! Fortunately Corrys was a friendly child and not inclined to worry about being hugged by a big sister whose existence was rather faded in her baby mind.

"I knit it well big" said Amrys, thrusting the coat and hat at her mother "I hope it'll fit over the winter!"

Rillys held up the little garment.

"Oh I should think it'll be just perfect!" she said. "And it'll hand down when she's grown out of it; and a good russet does for any sex!"

"Are you breeding again already?" asked Amrys interested.

Rillys flushed delicately.

"I think so" she said "I took herbs, but, well …. I'm going by the weyr thought that if it happens it's right."

"Better have a boy this time then" advised Amrys "They want more than just Green Riders at the Weyr."

Corbin boxed her ears lightly.

"Horrid child" he said cheerfully. She grinned at him.

"I'm an apprentice; it's in the rules that we have to be horrid children!" she said.

Rillys and Corbin laughed.

It was a lovely family meal together!

As Amrys had surmised, her mother was more than happy to pack a hamper of delicacies for something so exciting as a midnight feast! It was all good finger food, pies and cheese-bread, fruit fritters and sweetcakes of several types. It would be a most splendid feast if they could only smuggle it up to the dormitory.

It was unfortunate that the pair of conspirators should be accosted on the way back to the Crafthall with their precious hamper by senior apprentice Serry.

"What have you got in that hamper and where do you think you're taking it?" he demanded.

"The Lady Rillys has put together some samples of fibres from different cotholds that Journeyman Otelek wanted to look over" said Amrys. "We're now taking the hamper to him."

The first half of the statement was no lie; and if they now proceeded to Journeyman Otelek nor would the second half. It was a piece of casuistry but Amrys hated to give the lie direct.

"I don't believe you" said Serry.

"Well, that's not my problem" Amrys snapped.

"You are cheeky, apprentice."

"And you, senior apprentice, do not have any teaching duties nor yet a Journeyman's knots that can say that I am cheeky or no!" said Amrys, any guilty sympathy she might have had for denying the boy a firelizard egg evaporating.

"Well, I shall see you safely to Journeyman Otelek" said Serry triumphantly.

Amrys shrugged.

"You can carry the fardling thing if you like" she suggested, boldly.

"Why should I?"

"Well if you want to come along I thought you could make yourself useful like a real man; but if you're not one I guess I shall have to keep on struggling and pity you for being so feeble" shrugged Amrys.

Serry seethed; but mad no attempt to help!

Fortunately Journeyman Otelek was in his room; he was busy feeding Beren and Luti, as he called his brown and green firelizards.

"These apprentices were acting suspiciously" said Serry "and claimed to be bringing samples for you from the Hold, which I knew nothing of, sir, so I thought I'd see them to your room so any lies they're telling would be duly revealed" he actually threw out his chest with self congratulation.

"Ah, Lady Rillys had time to put them together, did she?" said Otelek "Excellent, I wasn't sure she would…..Serry, you take a great deal upon yourself for one who has not yet gained his journeyman's knots; and why you would expect to know what I might have asked for I fail to understand since it is none of your business. Very well; you may go. I note they were still carrying a heavy basket; so they will get the fun of helping me unpack and the due praise for bringing it. You kids will have to put the empty basket in one of your dormitories before taking it back tomorrow, I've not the room" he addressed this comment to the younger pair. "Serry, you are still here: why?"

Serry grimaced and withdrew.

"Sir, what we said to him was that Lady Rillys had samples; and that we were bringing this basket to you" said Amrys.

The journeyman looked at them sternly.

"Well at least you did not lie….using my name in a conspiracy to smuggle comestibles, hmm?"

Amrys beamed at him.

"Oh but sir, you still remember being an apprentice and Serry doesn't, even though he still is!"

Otelek had to laugh!

"The least you can do is to let me sample your – samples – so I can say with truth that I was delighted with the contents!" he said.

Amrys and Jilamon grinned and dived into the hamper to heave out some sweetcakes.

"Thanks" said Otelek tasting "These ARE good… I hope you scallywags have a good feast and don't yawn so much on the morrow that you need discipline in my early class. Who's invited?"

"Oh, all the new ones like us" said Amrys "There's some senior we'd have liked to have had, but some of the other seniors are full of crackdust and would either tell or make a nuisance of themselves."

"Umm" said Otelek. "Who would you have?"

"Zayven, Hetel and Mellsi I guess" said Amrys "And I include Mellsi 'cos anyone who can cheat a Bitran out of a blue firelizard egg like he did is worthy of respect."

"How about you leave a few goodies with me and I have those three in to er, review their studies; and I feed them Klah and goodies for a late supper courtesy the junior apprentices?" suggested the Journeyman.

"Oh Journeyman Otelek, you are the BEST!" said Amrys, placing a big kiss on his cheek.

"Well, I take compliments and kisses from any girl I can get them off" he winked and grinned at her teasingly "So long as she has her brother as a chaperone! Now you scamps go and store the hamper; and try to carry it like it's empty if it pulls the arms out of your sockets doing it in case anyone is watching!"

"It'll be easy for having rested" said Jilamon. "Reckon I can manage it myself just down the corridor to our dorm; that'll look like it's lighter."

"Good lad" said Otelek, helping to lift it for Jilamon. "Have a good time!"

"We will, sir!" they chorused.

It was a fun and scary thing to creep quietly from bed and sneak into another dormitory; they all climbed onto the two beds at the far end with just one half dim glow basket purloined by Kyilin to see to pass out the food to all the junior apprentices, talking in whispers and giggling at the illicit pleasure of it all!

The sound of the door opening had a lid over the glows and most of the apprentices freezing still!

"It's only me" Hetel's voice was quiet "On the way – supposedly – to the necessary; just to say thanks for the treat – the three of us really enjoyed it! And to warn you that Serry will be about in around half an hour, so hurry it – Zayven pretended he saw some glows bobbing around outside and the little gas-spurt is off investigating."

"You're solid rock, Hetel, and Zayven too, you really are!" said Amrys much moved. "Thank him for us!"

"Least we could do! Now get that mess cleared up quick and back into your own beds!" said Hetel slipping out.

"How can he see the mess?" wondered Larek, amazed.

"He's probably had midnight feasts himself in his junior days" suggested Lyssa prosaically "And knows how they spread. Well I'm stuffed!"

"Me too" said Amrys happily "We'll put the crumbs in the necessary and have the napkins in our room – we can pass them off as sanitary clothes if any master asks – so the basket really IS empty. C'mon!"

With a will they cleared up; and the boys from the other two dormitories slid back to bed, whispering thanks to be invited!

The girls disposed of the crumbs and folded the napkins neatly and put them with their underlinen!

Footsteps along the corridor stopped at each dormitory; and Serry's subdued voice said,

"Well, sir, one of them was one of the girls, perhaps the GIRLS are having a feast!"

"Next to a Master's room?" the voice of Journeyman Belon spoke, starting to sound testy.

"We could look, sir!"

"Apprentice, if you think that it is proper for two men to invade the dormitory of little girls you must have taken leave of your senses" said Belon.

"Should we knock up Otaysa?" persisted Serry.

A new voice joined the conversation; Otaysa had awoken.

"WHAT is going on here? Journeyman, apprentice, what are you doing loitering outside my girls' room?"

"Apprentice Serry believes they are having an illicit feast" said Belon sheepishly.

"Without waking a light sleeper like me? I hardly think so" said Otaysa. "It's one reason I was asked to be their house mother! Besides, what if they are? If they're tired in class tomorrow they'll be punished for that."

"They'll be with Journeyman Otelek and I'm sure he was conniving with…" Serry tailed off, remembering that Otaysa was Otelek's mother.

"Ignoring for a moment my partiality, I hope an APPRENTICE can prove an accusation against a journeyman" said Otaysa quietly. "Let us see if this illicit feast is taking place."

She entered the girls' dorm; to be greeted by Lyssa's quite natural – and indeed perfectly genuine – snoring; for Lyssa had fallen asleep the moment she regained her own bed.

Amrys sat up.

"Otaysa? Is that you? Is there a fire? Something wrong? I – I've heard footsteps and a man's voice in the corridor!" she said, simulating alarm "I don't THINK I dreamed it!"

"It's nothing to worry about dear, go back to sleep" said Otaysa.

Amrys had to run to listen at the door to hear the woman's furious whisper,

"Scaring my girls! You ought to be ashamed of yourselves, both of you – and you, Belon, OUGHT to be old enough to know better! This illicit feast is all in your head, Serry, because you never made yourself pleasant enough when you were younger to get invited to any yourself! Now go back to bed and first egg help you if YOU'RE tired and yawning first thing with Journeyman Benor – he won't tolerate THAT using woodworking tools!"

Her door was shut with a CLICK that gave the impression of having the vehemence of a whispered slam, as Amrys described it later!

Amrys grinned. It had gone even better than she might have hoped!


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Hetel reported at lunchtime that Serry had done nothing but bring trouble on himself.

"He was tired and clumsy, so Journeyman Benor cuffed him well and demanded to know if he'd spent half the night with a Gather loving wench" he chuckled. "We didn't SAY he'd been out of bed for a lot of the night, of course; but there are ways and ways of not saying anything! He's such an interference, and that's with us too, just to try to make himself look good to get Journeyman's knots quicker! And he's too much of a dimglow to realise it's not the way to go about it either! Heh, I hope he tries to interfere when our Ranking paying students come – he'd get short shrift from a stuck up bunch of ladies, I wager!"

"Oh, like Amrys?" said Jeral, innocently.

"The fardles like Amrys!" said Hetel "SHE gets down and dirty with the rest of us and learns properly, not just improving her marriageable skills to make up for what they haven't got either between the ears or between the legs!"

That went past most of the apprentices, though Jeral gave a shout of coarse laughter, and Amrys grinned.

She knew more than an eleven turn old should; and most of that was down to Derrinick's coarse language, unrestrained in front of a daughter of tender turns.

"Any idea when the paying students are starting to arrive?" she asked.

"Father said, inside a sevenday" Hetel told her. "He's not looking forward to it, you can imagine! He'll be teaching them to knit lace and fancy patterns if they want to learn; he's not keen on screechy women; thought he'd escaped all my aunts coming here."

"Want to tell us about it?" said Amrys "I thought he looked a little ….drawn….when you first arrived, but he seems a lot happier."

Hetel shrugged.

"My mother couldn't bring a baby to term after me; and she so wanted a big family so she kept right on trying. The last one poisoned her somehow, and she just died. The Healer called it pre-clamps or something. There was nothing to be done apparently but abort the baby; and she wouldn't, kept hoping it would survive. My mother was pretty strong minded, you know, like all her sisters, and nothing father said would have changed her mind. Only the silly old wherries will have it tat it was all father's fault she died and that he made her keep having babies - and he never did! He begged her to stop!" he scowled "I had to protect him from them, and they set up a campaign of whispers, 'cos they're that spiteful, so when Master Zurg suggested we come here to escape it, I talked father into it. I look out for him, you know; he's too nice and needs looking after!"

"We won't let them bully him if we can help it" Amrys assured Hetel. "Your father's one of our favourite journeymen; he's kind."

"Thanks" said Hetel "I'm glad you kids know the truth – in case rumours come north."

"Huh, we'd not be listenin' to anything so spiteful sounding, so we wouldn't" said Lyssa.

"And I KNOW it's spite, for my father's mentioned it" said Kevanna.

"So there" said Jilamon.

"You kids are all right" said Hetel.

Amrys went to see Otaysa.

"Otaysa, we shan't have to share a dorm with the paying girls will we?" she asked.

"Why ever should you not?" asked Otaysa.

"Well, several reasons actually" said Amrys candidly. "For one, I bet they'll all be big girls of fourteen turns and more; and they won't much like being in with little kids like us and when girls resent something they pick on and bully the kids they resent, which will be detrimental to our craft and the very reason that we're here. Also, they're only here to play at being crafters to learn more hobbies; and I'd be surprised if they – or it least if they all – accepted us as girls taking it more seriously than they do; so they'll laugh at us and interfere, like as not. And they'll despise us and look down on us as mere nobodies who have to take a craft because we've no Rank because a lot of girls of rank do; because they've got little else to do but play the game of who Ranks whom. Believe me, Otaysa I KNOW this type of girl" she added earnestly. "The more separate we are from them, the more both groups will like it. I mean, you'd not put them in with eleven turn old boys, would you? And Lyssa, Kevanna and me are more like the boys our age than a bunch of silly girls."

Otaysa looked thoughtful; the Lady Amrys probably DID know more about such Ranking girls than she did. And her points were valid.

"Oh my dear, I hadn't thought it through like that at all" she apologised. "Of course we have girls who are apprentices of all ages together when they are small in numbers – but of course, as you point out the difference in outlook and ambition might cause problems. I can't really put them at the other end between junior boys and seniors either though; most improper!"

"If there's no rooms to make them share in the masters' wing out of everyone's way, I guess you could rig a curtain for us three in the next boys' dorm" suggested Amrys "It's been done in the Harper Hall."

"It's rather improper" said Otaysa.

"Not so improper as letting outsiders interfere with crafters" said Amrys. "It's not like any of us was old enough to think of sex as anything but rather squishy; and we could still use the female necessary and bathing room."

"I'll talk to the Master" said Otaysa.

The result was a wooden partition, making one dormitory into two of six beds each. The girls had one side, the boys had the other, a space lost from the dormitory with an entrance lobby having a door going each way.

Amrys thought it a little excessive; but it was better than living with older Ranking girls! And this way they could call through the partition to their friends!

As that particular dormitory had only housed their five friends and a couple of others only one boy had to move; and gregarious Traal made no difficulty over that! Jerellan was pleased to stay near Tirley, as both were by far and away the most talented!

The apprentices were hard at work at their lessons when the various Ranking girls arrived. In fact they had been working with Blueweed in the dyehouse; and stank, as Amrys cheerfully said, like a midden in midsummer.

It was a bonus that they were running up to bathe when the new girls had just been shown to their dormitory, making them recoil from the smell.

"UGH! What are these filthy stinking urchins doing here? Shoo! Shoo I say!" said a tall, dark haired girl, making shooing motions with her hands as to flybys.

"Excuse me, paying student, but we need to go past you to the bathing rooms" said Amrys sweetly, advancing on her.

The girl recoiled, her face suffused with anger.

"Low born tripe! How DARE you!" she struck out at Amrys with the back of her hand, sending the little girl flying clean off her feet.

Otaysa, with the older girls, rounded on her.

"Siresha! How DARE you strike one of the apprentices! Apologise immediately!"

"But it tried to get CLOSE to me and it STANK!"

"These children have been at the dyehouse; if you want your pretty blue gowns you must accept that others put up with having to stink to make them for you" said Otaysa "SHE spoke truth; they need to get past you to bathe and come to do so on the orders of a Master. Now apologise to Amrys or I'll have you sent home!"

"But you can't…"

"But I can, little madam, and I will if I have any crackdust from you. Why hasn't Amrys got up? Is she all right, Kevanna?" Otaysa had looked round for the little girl to make the older girl apologise to her and saw the child huddled by the wall, Sapph and Em chirping hysterically, their eyes whirling in bright purples.

"I don't think she is all right Otaysa" said Kevanna "She's not moving."

"G-giddy" muttered Amrys "Feel sick….hit…head"

Otaysa pursed her lips, measured the distance and boxed Siresha's ears as hard as she could. The girl yelped in pain and outrage!

"Help Amrys to the infirmary" said Otaysa to the other female apprentices.

"Bathe…" said Amrys.

"I'll wash you on the bed, dear" said Otaysa. "That was a mean blow, Siresha; I grant that the main injury was caused by hitting the wall, but it was too much! I give you warning – one more mean trick and you're out too. And you're out if you don't apologise immediately too."

"I apologise for hitting the brat harder than I thought" said Siresha sulkily.

"Not good enough; the apology is for hitting an apprentice AT ALL. You have NO jurisdiction over them; if they plague you, you complain to ME. Understood?"

"I understand. I'm sorry; I didn't understand the rules" Siresha looked down her nose in a sneering fashion that suggested they she considered these rules stupid and beneath her.

"After all, she's not got much to understand with" drawled another of the paying students "Be sure, Otaysa, the rest of us will not interfere with the apprentices; as if THAT's any consolation to Lady Holder Amrys right now" she smiled sweetly at Siresha. "What, sweetie, didn't you know? Amrys the apprentice is Lady Holder Amrys of Rivenhill under her mother's Wardership and a friend of the weyr. You HAVE made yourself a powerful enemy, Siresha my dear; how TYPICALLY inept of you."

"That will do, Vana" said Otaysa.

Vana grinned; and winked at the apprentices, most of whom stared open mouthed, the news being a revelation to the majority too!

That some looked unsurprised was confirmation to Siresha that Vana spoke truth and had not made it up!

The healer, Soranne, wife of journeyman Lyilin, a working rather than teaching journeyman, made Amrys stay awake when she wanted to sleep; and Otaysa bathed the little girl on a drying cloth quite ruthlessly, talking to her soothingly.

"I'll sit up with her the night" said Soranne "A blow like that can be serious; and I dare not give her fellis."

"Concussion?" Otaysa was concerned.

"Yes. She's young and strong, but…."

Otaysa nodded seriously, frightened.

"I wish I had sent that brat home!" she said grimly "On the first day one hesitates…."

To her credit, Otaysa was frightened for the life of her charge, not of the consequences of the possible death of the lady Holder of the Hall's sponsor!

Soranna withheld Fellis until she was certain all danger was past; and Amrys cried quietly with the pain in her head, drifting in and out of consciousness until the bitter draft allowed her to sleep! Once dosed with fellis the little girl slept for two straight days!

Once she awoke, each of Amrys' friends was permitted to visit her for a few minutes each with sympathy and, from the girls, kisses; and the girl Vana came to see her too.

"You ratted me up" said Amrys "I WAS keeping my Rank quiet!"

"Oh, I'm sorry" said Vana "I just wanted to put that snotty bitch in her place…and I've seen you before, visiting Nabol."

"Well, my friends knew, so I guess it's no real harm done, because I guess the rest are used to me being me by now. You're a relative of Lord Deckter, aren't you?"

"The look of Meron, huh? Fortunately he wasn't that closely related to me so I'm not too ferret-faced."

Amrys grinned weakly

"His daughters are all right anyhow" she said "Ipominea's really nice, she's a woodcraft apprentice and two of the older ones are Impressed."

"Yes, thought about going for it myself" said Vana "But I want a useful skill in the Weyr and sewing is something I'm quite good at so I thought I'd develop it."

"Well I think that's a good idea" said Amrys "I want to understand a craft I'll be lady Holder sponsoring."

"That's sensibly" said Vana "Uncle Deckter is glad to have a craft. Oh, I'm about to be thrown out" as Soranne came in.

"Well it's nice to meet you I suppose" said Amrys!

When Amrys was allowed back into classes she had a hero's welcome!

"Not that I deserve so rousing a cheer" she said "I never hit her back!"

"It's 'cos you got walloped by the worst one and had the birth that the girl Vana used to make her look stupid" said Jilamon. "They had to hold me back though; girl or no, I wanted to thump her!"

"Didn't Otaysa box her ears soundly though!" crowed Tirley "Reckon they're still ringing!"

Fortunately for Amrys, her masters all saw her as the injured party and were kindly in helping her to catch up and quick to send her to rest when the little girl went white with the headaches she still had frequently for a full sevenday round.

The Master Weaver asked her if she wanted to go home; but Amrys shook her head, wincing at the pain that caused.

"No, sir! I'd lose even more time and I guess I'd only mope and brood" she said "I'll get over it I guess."

Siresha did NOT find the masters in the least bit convivial. Amrys could be close to cheeky and almost a pest at times in her willingness to help; but she was merry and bright and a hard worker. She was popular with masters and apprentices alike – Serry excepted – and the opinions about anyone who would hurt any child so badly, especially it has to be said a prime favourite . were very low indeed. Siresha got short shrift over her airs, no leeway with any faults in her work and was moreover served the worst cuts of meat with watery vegetables once Torghen had told his cook parents all about her. He may not have been one of Amrys' special friends, but he did like her – and she was one of them. And as the support staff also liked Amrys – who was unfailingly courteous, helpful by such means as stacking the dishes from her table neatly for them and not making excess cleaning by careless thoughtlessness as many did – Siresha found that there were many little miseries that could be inflicted even by drudges. Her laundry was the last to be done; her sheets were put back slightly damp; and her food was always cold.

As none of the other Ranking girls – three related to Holders and two daughters of Craftmasters – liked Siresha at all, she received precious little sympathy. Siresha had had images of being the leader amongst the girls; and had hoped to use force of personality and age to take charge; but Vana outranked her socially, was almost as old and had the cool sardonic dignity to make the arrogant outbursts that had worked bullying fosterlings in Siresha's own Hold look like the childishness they really were. The other girls – decent girls on the whole – preferred Vana's lead to Siresha's, and even the youngest girl Chelessa could not be bullied, for she had a firelizard to come to her defence, and as the daughter of a Master Fisherman had a strong streak of independence; not to mention forceful seabred vocabulary!

On the whole, the Masters and Journeymen were pleasantly surprised by the paying students – they worked hard to achieve their ends, especially Vana and young Chelessa.

It is to be noted that Hetel's comment about the Ranking women neding some ability to replace a lack between both ears and legs found its way amongst the faculty concerning Siresha, however. It was perhaps as well that there was nobody with Harper training in the Weavercraft Hall to spread that comment further in song!

The Masterweaver had of course told Amrys' parents all that had happened; and he would have acceded to a request to have Siresha removed if they had asked it. Such had been Corbin's first reaction, and preferably in a dismembered state. However Rillys had pointed out that seeing the girl every day – unless the Master Weaver felt it oppressing to their little girl, and she would leave him to judge that – would help Amrys deal with the fact that there were some people you could never get on with.

"She will too have a good punishment from the scorn of the whole of the people around her" said Rillys coldly "As she might not get sent back to the Hold that spawned her where evidently such behaviour is normal. We will write a formal letter of complaint, witnessed by our Brown Rider son and our Hold Harper and a copy to both Lord Deckter and – Lord Larad is her overlord is he not? – to see that her behaviour is shown to be unacceptable. I would hope that you would take as many pains over any apprentice Master Lynger?"

"I would, My Lady; but your complaints will carry more weight to her kin and overlord than those of, say, one of my drudges" said Lynger honestly. "But I would still remove this girl at the request of any parent of one of my apprentices." It was true. Lynger was susceptible to the pressures of the ranking; but his crafthall came first in all cases. "And unofficially, all the staff have taken to doing what they can to make their opinion of this Siresha known; Amrys is popular."

"You're a good man, Lynger" said Corbin warmly. "Yes, she's a good little girl. We must arrange something nice for your support staff; appropriate gifts all round, if you'll find out what they might best wish, Master Lynger!"

Master Lynger smiled grimly.

He'd make sure his people knew – unofficially – that their small gifts were thanks gifts for their support of young Amrys!

He should be grateful really that there was only one troublesome member amongst their paying guests!


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

The presence of the Ranking girls did have some disruptive effect amongst the older apprentices it must be admitted.

Older boys always seem to feel a need to show off when there are girls around; and the Weavercraft senior apprentices, the older ones at least, were no exception. Even Serry discovered he could smile and try to draw attention to himself; and had not Siresha distained all the apprentices as low-born stinking porcines, there might have evolved an unpleasant partnership of people who disliked Amrys; for Siresha blamed the little girl for setting the support staff against her – despite the child being still unconscious when they first made their feelings known – rather than it being her own fault! As it was she gave Serry as much short shrift as she would have given any boy, he being the only one to try to make himself pleasant to her, for feeling himself that it was time Amrys got her comeuppance!

Hetel and Zayven, too young to do more than find girls simultaneously interesting and embarrassing through the various physical reactions they provoked stayed well out of the way of the paying students; and were acclaimed by the younger ones as having good sense! Mellsi larked about doing acrobatics; Larterel wrote bad poetry and dropped it into various work bags, Serry was loud – or rather, louder, as Amrys said – and Silger plotted a campaign of romance to try to engage the attentions of Vana as the highest ranking girl there.

The children found out about the poems of Larterel when they turned up in the girls' necessary as additional wiping material to the more usual rag-on-a-stick; the three little girls thought them hilarious and saved them to show about to the boys – much to Larterel's outrage and chagrin when he heard his best efforts quoted in mock falsetto by a violently over-acting youth going through all the motions of swooning, laying at the feet and other outrageous excesses of adolescent poetry.

The poetry stopped.

Silger's campaigns were discovered by Jeral, Kyilin and Larek. These three young rogues had taken themselves to the dyehouse for some privacy to plot mischief and had hidden – in the spirit of general guilt – when someone else came in. Silger was the someone else and he was also seeking privacy to rehearse his spontaneous speeches.

The three were delighted.

The idiots the older boys were making of themselves was better than a drama put on by travelling players!

The phrase 'I fear your heart is as unassailable as a Queen dragon in her shell' was subsequently oft quoted amongst the boys amid much puerile hilarity.

The masters sighed collectively.

The effect of girls on the adolescent male was, unfortunately, inevitable. And there was little point trying to ban the boys from talking to the Ranking girls; for it would merely add the spice of the forbidden to the spice of over-stimulated hormones. It would just have to die a natural death.

Fortunately most of the girls found their effect on the boys funnier than it was irritating; and just laughed it off! The girls found the mockery made of the older ones by the youngsters funnier still; and the entire lower group of apprentices found themselves treated to sweet-sticks.

This resulted in the younger apprentices making a bit of an effort and inviting the big girls to a little drama they called 'romancing Vana' in which the lines were take almost exclusively from a mix of Silger's speeches and Larterel's poetry, and ended with the dramatic suicide – accompanied by much red sauce acquired from the kitchen by Torghen – of the spurned apprentice to the phrase 'alas! You have wounded me to the heart with your scorn so I can but do likewise with my knife!'

Even Siresha, who attended half heartedly, laughed, though her laughter was more spiteful than the genuine amusement of the other girls.

The older apprentices retired hurt, vowing unspecified vengeance on the youngsters if they could only think of anything appropriate!

Vana did ask,

"Who wrote the rubbish I'm supposed to spout?"

Amrys grinned.

"Me. Didn't you like it? I thought 'alas I am destined for the weyr, my heart is not mine own but belongs to my unhatched dragon' was pretty good following on from the crackdust about unassailable hearts; and no more unmitigated tripe than what the big boys wrote!"

Vana laughed.

"I suppose it does almost flow" she said. "I thought the boy who played me did very well not to burst out laughing; it was very funny. But I'd not take it on the road if I were you; it was one of those 'you almost had to be there' moments."

Amrys grinned again cheerily.

"Oh it was just a lark" she said "And I hope it'll remind my friends when they get that old not to lose their brains to their trousers!"

"Earthy but accurate" said Vana "I hope so too; they're nice enough kids, I'd hate to see them make fools of themselves."

"Well if they must, I hope it's over someone nice like you who won't be unkind about it" said Amrys!.

Once everyone was used to the paying girls being there, the Hall settled down; interrupted only when every firelizard in the place stiffened; and keened a mourning note as they had when Mirath had suicided over Fanna's death.

"Oh dear" said Amrys "I wonder who that might be! Hang on. I'll see if I can get Camnath."

"You talk to dragons?" Lyssa was awed.

"No, some dragons sometimes talk to me" said Amrys. "Ah. That's bad."

"What?" Jilamon demanded.

"The mating flight at Ista…T'kul and B'zon came….Salth's too old, his heart burst: he shouldn't be too old, T'kul never kept him fir is all….T'kul fights F'lar." Tears ran down her cheeks unheeded at the thought of the death of any dragon, even the dragon of the man who caused so much trouble in the High Reaches!

"What's baby got to cry about now?" Siresha, passing, asked scornfully.

"She never cried when you hurt her, you big bully" said Jilamon "I bet you would have done in the same circumstances! We all mourn a dead dragon, for your information; but you'd not understand that because you need to be all there to be able to mourn; and you surely are retarded and even if you try to hit me" he added as she raised a fist "After father has thrashed your backside raw you'll get sent home."

"Oh? And who's your father that he'd dare lay a finger on me?" she asked scornfully.

Jilamon smiled sweetly.

"Same as my sister's" he said, indicating Amrys. "Corbin recently married Rillys you know so we have two parents each now."

It implied that Corbin was his father and Amrys his step sister; and Siresha stepped back as though she had been slapped.

The grim faced Holder Corbin frightened her; he had come in to see his little girl as she lay in fellis-indiced sleep and heard him tell the Master Weaver that though no blame accrued to HIM he would have justice on the culprit if the child died; and that would be a hanging.

Siresha had believed him; and had scurried away before she was found eavesdropping!

"Beat it Siresha" said Amrys, scrubbing a hand across her face "Or I reckon I can find ways to make YOU cry."

Siresha left hurriedly.

She was not used to being treated like that by a bunch of scrubby brats – even if they were Ranking themselves – and it was extremely unnerving!

Amrys went to find Master Lynger, worried at his own two little firelizards mourning; and explained what was going on.

"F'lar? Is he all right?" he demanded.

"Bound to be" said Amrys "He taught T'lana to fight and she's GOOD; he's three parts good and one part lucky, which is a good mix for a Weyrleader. Besides, if he'd lost, they'd have mourned Mnementh. He is one of the best known dragons on Pern after all. It's over by now; knife fights don't take long."

The logic over there being no subsequent keen for Mnemeth was more soothing and convincing than Amrys' insouciant assumption of F'lar's ability; and the Master Weaver nodded, reassured!

oOoOo

Thread fell again; and this time the weavers went out to walk sweep the moment the knock on the door told them the main danger had passed.

The spurts of flame tens of lengths up showed where the dragons followed the leading edge away to the east as the curtain of Thread travelled; and Amrys glanced over to Corbin's group, steadfastly searching the ground.

With Camnath, Mirrith, Laranth and Melth prepared to keep in Corbin's thoughts the dragonless man now found the sight of dragons less terrible; part of him was up there as well as destroying Thread on the ground.

"Is it another light Fall?" she heard the Master Weaver ask a Hold sweepwalker "I thought your people had covered some of our patch last time, but there's very little to destroy even this time."

The holderman smiled grimly.

"Ar, that's High Reaches dragonfolk for yer" he said "Not much get past un. We gotta do our bit though; else their efforts be wasted-like. Ar, do you watch now; it be Changeover!"

Amrys liked watching the new tactic T'bor had introduced of changing the entire complement of fighting dragons save some of the Bronzes and those who flew in the Protective Wing, who covered dragons emerging from _Between_. The fighting formation dropped and the next group came in, emerging above them from _Between_, line by line in formation, and as each line appeared its tired counterpart broke, wheeled and vanished _Between_ to the weyr. The precision was incredible and Amrys never tired of watching it!

"Never seen that before" said Lynger, somewhat awed.

"Heh heh, T'bor's on'y Weyrleader what does it" said the Holderman. "Keeps his fighting strength high enough that he can afford to; best safety record on Pern, High Reaches. That's the female Green Riders for you; not so giddy as gayboys if you arst me. Ar well, gotta get on, Master" he nodded and resumed his sweep; and with a start Master Lynger resumed his too.

Fort Weyr occasionally put on displays of formation flying to reassure the commons; but nothing like as complex or ingenious as what he had just observed; and somehow the idea that this was what High Reaches thought of as everyday work was more impressive and reassuring than deliberately flown aerobatic displays put on solely for spectators. If High Reaches Weyr expected the majority of Holderfolk to turn out as soon as this, they would know that they were on display at every Fall just doing their job; and Lynger felt a sudden rush of pride to be part of the High Reaches!

The days were now drawing in quite noticeably. Fires were needed in the big hearths in the great hall and in the various workrooms, whose chimneys also warmed the dormitories.

The Ranking girls complained of course that they had no fireplace in their dormitory; and were told to put up with it like the other youngsters, and that they should think themselves lucky that the bathing water was warmed by the kitchen hearths thanks to the ingenuity of Bronze Rider H'llon.

H'llon was a great believer in making precious wood for heating work twice; and the flues ran through underfloor conduits upstairs as well as the bathing water being stored in a tank around the main kitchen chimney! The Kitchen was also immediately under the infirmary to be sure of keeping that room warmer; and it too had a small fireplace.

Part of the apprentice duties became helping to gather fuel.

Jeral grinned as he gathered wood from the nearby pine stand.

"What's long, brown and sticky?" he asked.

"A brown firelizard in icing sugar?" suggested Torghen, recalling the havoc the firelizards of the support staff had wreaked until their training started to pay off!

"No, silly! A long brown stick!" said Jeral.

The others groaned, unimpressed.

"All right" said Jeral "What's short, black and crumbly?"

"A short black crumb?" tried Larek.

"No, a long brown stick that's been burned!" said Jeral "OW!"

He was thoroughly pelted with sticks and pine cones and a general fight ensued to the great enjoyment of all the apprentices and relatively little use to the gathering of fuel.

The Master Weaver had allowed a certain amount of time for high jinks; but the fight exceeded even his generous allowance of mischief; and all apprentices involved – which was all the younger ones – were on water rations for three days, the difference being that thy were permitted to toast the bread of their ration so they had something hot to eat; and had plentiful wherry dripping to spread on it.

"You have an abominably short summer up here" grumbled Larek, mourning his home in southerly Keroon.

"But all the fun of deep snow too!" said Amrys. "You wait – when the river freezes we can slide and skate on it, you can skate halfway up to Nabol Hold far quicker than walking or riding, all the way to the head of the Esvay Valley. And there are ice fairs – it's great fun! And sledging too!"

"Hmmm" said Larek cynically "I'm not sure it's going to make up for it."

"Wait and see!" promised Amrys!

The Autumn Apple Gather was held at Rivenhill, the next item of excitement, with a cider making competition as part of it.

There was also to be a cider drinking competition later on; and the apprentices were warned to be back in the Hall before it started on pain of punishment.

"I'll say" said Amrys, wrinkling up her nose "We don't want to be anywhere near a bunch of drunken oafs who think they're as funny as Jeral and with even less cause!"

When that insult sank in, Jeral poked her!

Warm cloth was much in demand now, and the Weavercraft Hall did a roaring trade, selling out of everything the few masters and journeymen had managed to produce. Apprentice scarves and shawls sold well too, and the knitwear; for Nabol as a district had much less of a tradition of knitwear than the more westerly regions of the High Reaches area Holds. Amrys was delighted to sell a patchwork quilt; she had screen printed stylised dragons onto cloth most carefully to make least waste, designed to fit into a hexagon; and had added subtle embroidery to each before putting the patches together. It had taken all summer, but it sold for seven marks, and she was delighted! She was also working on a quilted jacket, using sinuous plant forms as her inspiration and was disappointed not to have got as far as putting the pieces together; but as Keirel, the paying girl from Upper Igen had expressed an interest in the garment – feeling the cold as she was already – Amrys hoped to make a private sale with the good graces of Master Braelek. She had chosen a rich dark blue satinised cotton to work with, well padded with raw cotton fibres, and the long leafy lines of quilting picked out in pale green and silvery grey. It would be worthy for a Ranking girl to wear for everyday when it was finished, Amrys thought critically; she need not be ashamed to be seen in it. And as an overgarment the fitting was never intended to be precise, so it mattered not that it was not tailored to the girl's measurements – a skill as yet beyond Amrys! Igenites liked loose garments anyway; the simple toggles Amrys had turned on the pole lathe that fastened with fabric loops and a tie belt were within keeping with Igen's chosen fashions as well as being practical anywhere!

Amrys took all her friends to eat with Rillys and Corbin this time; although they had already spent the morning sampling all the good edibles on sale! There had been baked stuffed apples, hogroast with applesauce, pressed apple juice, apple strudel and pork and apple sausages to name but a few; Amrys always thought that there was something of natural design in the fact that apple harvest coincided with killing the winter porcines since pork and apple went so well together!

The meal at the Hold disappeared as though the apprentices had starved all week however!

Corrys remembered Amrys better this visit; she was wearing the little coat and hat Amrys had knit.

"Thithter" she said carefully "B'uvver" pointing at Jilamon.

"Oh you clever precious little darling!" said Amrys, swooping on her and smothering her with kisses.

Corrys accepted this placidly as her just due.

"She stands really well – and her but ten months old!" said Amrys.

"Couldn't be bothered to crawl at all!" laughed Rillys. "Too eager to be up and doing! We got Geriana to paint a likeness of you both – she took visualisations from Denth for Jilamon, she remembers you well enough, Amrys; so we could show them to Corrys and talk to her about you!"

"THANKS mother!" said Amrys, her eyes full of tears.

Jilamon nodded too, too overcome to trust his voice.

To have a baby sister already starting to look up to him was the most wonderful thing!


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Amrys accepted Sagarra's invitation to go to the hatching of Mirrith's clutch this time; Mirrith was a very special Queen to her! Naturally Jilamon went too, in company of Amrys and Corbin.

The Master Weaver was also invited, together with his wife; and was as excited, had he shown it, as the children; for he had never attended a hatching before!

It was magical; and Amrys was sorry there were only twenty four eggs.

There was only one Bronze, who went to a boy who was presumably popular as there was a ragged cheer of congratulations from those candidates able to see; and a murmur of approval from the Riders in the tiers too. Amrys counted eight girls Impressing Green dragons, none of them known to her; though she had been able to wave cheerily to a number of people still sporting the simple weyrling Rider knots!

Jilamon was on the edge of his seat, crying unashamedly; and Corbin put an arm around him. Amrys grinned at him through her own tears; hatchings were emotional times. Corbin had come as Rillys' representative; the Lady Warder had not attended, though she was fairly certain she was in the middle trimester of her pregnancy she was not sufficiently certain to wish to risk going _Between._ Corbin had declared that if Lord Warder Lytol could go to hatchings, so could he; and his pain was made easier to bear again by the gentle presence of his 'family' dragons, Denth now joining the dragons of Rillys' closest friends too. Mirrith gave a running commentary with caustic comments on the candidates that had Corbin close to tears of laughter at times as well as emotion! He attended in Rillys' stead as support for a lad from Rivenhill Hold who stood for Impression; and Corbin pointed the boy Asgall out to the children. Amrys and Jilamon shouted and whistled like mad when A'gall Impressed a Brown dragon!

It was over too soon. Amrys gave a sigh that was half satisfaction, half regret for it being over; but at least there was the feast now. And Corbin moved easily amongst the dragons of the weyr, each of them greeting him with respect.

T'lana brought a small boy the same sort of age as Amrys and Jilamon over to their table, where they sat with the Master Weaver.

"This is Nelon" she said "He didn't Impress this time; and though we fully expect him to he doesn't want to get behind with his craft and we're short of weavers at the weyr. And he prefers not to go back to High Reaches Hold Weaverhall; Master Lynger, would it be an imposition to ask you to take him on while he waits for another clutch? From the little weaving I do I'd say he was fairly competent."

"Oh yes, of course, delighted, weyrwoman!" said Lynger, smiling kindly at the lad. "Dreadful disappointment; of course you want to keep busy not to brood on it nor worry about next time."

Nelon beamed at him.

"Yes sir, please sir, it's awfully easy to make up all sorts of 'what ifs' you know."

Lynger questioned Nelon over what he had studied; and was startled.

"You are well on for a lad only twelve turns old!" he said "You must have worked hard as well as having a natural aptitude!"

Nelon stood on one foot, rubbing the back of his leg with the other in some embarrassment.

"Well…" he said "If it's all in craft, may I be blunt sir?"

"Do" said Lynger, wondering what he was about to hear.

"Well, it's because of Master Varik at High Reaches Weaverhall. And his son, apprentice Rorik, who the Master liked to sneak for him."

"Surely not!" Lynger was shocked.

"Rorik admitted it quite freely when he came here – I do not lie, sir!" said Nelon. "He tried to sneak to R'gar – our Weyrlingmaster – and got sent rightabout! I think he's kind of learning that it's not acceptable, and I'm almost sorry for him 'cos it must be hard for a chap whose own father turns him into a – an egreejus sneak, but Master Varik has favourites and I wasn't one of them so I worked like stink so he wouldn't have anything to punish me for and I liked learning stuff anyway."

"Dear me" said Lynger, mildly. "Well, criticising a master is not really acceptable either, but on the whole you could, I think, have been less discreet in what you say; so I shall overlook that, providing the comments go no further. IS that understood, you three?" he asked sternly.

Nelon nodded readily. Amrys hesitated.

"Sir it depends on circumstances. If someone needs to be warned to stay clear of this master I think a judicious amount of indiscretion could be – be warranted."

"I don't want to hear stories of unfair masters as common knowledge" said Lynger bluntly.

Amrys look relieved.

"Oh that's all right then! Discreet as Harpers sir!" she promised; Jilamon nodding his own agreement!

"Well young Nelon, as well as all this hard work, I hope you're no prig and know how to have fun too?" asked Master Lynger.

Nelon grinned and his eyes twinkled with mischief.

"You bet sir!" he said "And I must say, I think you must be solid rock to care about that – I never heard of a master that did before!"

Lynger gave a hollow mock groan at the first statement; reflecting grimly that the second half did NOT speak well for his colleagues at High Reaches who sounded a dull lot if they could not deal with a colleague who encouraged sneaking!

"Well then, you will doubtless fit in well with Amrys, Jilamon and their reprobate friends" he said.

"Oh I heard all about them from Sagarra, sir!" said Nelon "She read me some of Amrys' letters!"

"She told me you're a good sort too" said Amrys to Nelon. "She said you might want to join us if your dragon wasn't shelled. But you'll be way above us if you've worked with complex twills and as many as four heddles! Even our resident genius Tirley hasn't got that far, nor clever hard working Jerellan!"

"Heh, 'twon't stop me having fun with the rest of you!" grinned Nelon.

"Mmm, I was afraid of that" said Master Lynger!

Nelon fitted into Amrys' group like a hand into a glove. Tirley and Jilamon were glad of a boy near them in age to 'balance the numbers' as Tirley said, referring to the three girls.

"Twice" sid Amrys "With Jeral, Larek and Kyilin."

"Well, they're bigger" said Tirley.

As it happened, Nelon did very few lessons with the young ones; he was so well ahead, though not so far ahead as the senior apprentices, save one, the youngest among them, Zayven. Hetel, also young, was Craftbred and was well ahead of his age group. Zayven was certainly glad to be joined by Nelon, that he would not have to study alone any more! Nelon and Zayven were given the task of working directly with Master Lynger, using the pulley system H'llon installed on the big draw loom to help Lynger weave brocades and, once pulleys were installed on the epingle looms, brocaded velvets. The boys were beginning to learn such complex crafts; of which velvet weaving was but a part. The epingle looms had metal rods to form the pile above the ground weave; and velvet weaving could involve piles of different height on one piece, or voided velvet where the satin ground showed through the pile pattern. Add to that the choice of cut or uncut pile and velvet could become a very complex fabric! It was a skilled specialisation of its own; and Master Lynger was one of only a few who was qualified to weave figured velvet.

Nelon thought long and hard; and spoke to his new friends seriously.

"You know, the reason I went to the Weyr was because life was intolerable under…..well, a certain person. I promised Master Lynger I'd not talk about it so as not to bring the craft into disrepute. But…well, I love weaving, and I think if Jilamon is waiting until he's turned fourteen to stand, I'd like to wait and stand at the same time. We're much the same age; it'd be nice to be candidates together."

Jilamon grinned.

"That'd be GREAT!" he said.

"The weyr has two weavercrafters, but neither takes apprentices" said Amrys. "One weaves; one does the tailoring. Both are helped out by various weyrwomen, but there's no formal crafthall."

"We'll soon change THAT!" grinned Nelon "We'll need a likely journeyman to be a candidate too."

"Heh, by that time Hetel or Zayven will have made journeyman; either one of them'd be good" said Jilamon. Zayven had proved less interfering than Kevanna had at first described him by being treated to Amrys' style of friendly camaraderie and involved in logicating games!

High Reaches Weyr had four adult Queen dragons; and it was not long before another mating flight went over.

"That's Segrith" said Amrys, knowledgeably, as all the apprentices scrambled to the big windows to watch. "That's the most important flight of all; she's senior Queen. If Orth doesn't fly her, High Reaches will have a new Weyrleader."

"Is that very likely?" asked Tirley anxiously "My father says T'bor is the best thing that's ever happened to the High Reaches."

"No, not really" said Amrys. "The wishes of the whole weyr tend to affect the dragons; and besides there are reasons all the other Bronzes would feel inhibited. Neither Shath nor Nioth are likely to; T'kil and B'kyle will inhibit them because they don't want to replace their father, and T'kil has a weyrmate too. L'gani's Ragath could; but Ragath is in the habit of deferring to Orth. Laranth is too fixated on Mirrith to care about another Queen, as Shath is on Daenilth; Luruth likewise has M'gol's feelings for J'nara and Melth has H'llon's for Z'ira and Solpeth has L'gal's for his new weyrmate whose name I've forgotten that rides Frith. And Faioth defers to Orth too. And I think that's all the Bronzes hard enough – no I tell a lie, there's Esruth, but he has a thing for Tamalenth so that's that."

"Shards, you DO know your weyr, don't you!" said Jeral.

"And Weyrfolk like knows Frith but not her Rider!" laughed Jilamon.

"Yes" said Amrys, grinning at her brother "I guess I am a little bit weyrbred after all! And if anything happened to Orth – Faranth's Egg forbid – I'd put my marks on Ragath! L'gani's not loud – despite being seabred" she grinned at Lalter and Sherek " – but he's always there behind the scenes and T'bor relies on him a lot. And the other Bronze Riders like and respect him; and that matters a lot" she grinned "Oh, look at Orth jink; he'll bring her home! – there! He has her!"

"How can you tell them apart?" asked Kevanna.

"Why, they're all different! As different as any other people one from another!" said Amrys.

"We'll take your word for it apprentice Amrys" said Journeyman Otelek, whose class it was, as she opened her mouth to enumerate differences. "And as they've turned for home, shall we turn back to the study of the properties of teaming S-spun and Z-spun fibres together?"

Amrys grinned at him.

"I shan't say sorry, journeyman, 'cos I'm not" she said.

"No I don't suppose you are, you unrepentant scrub. I see nothing wrong in the appreciation of the beauty and grace of our big guardians as they mate in any case" said the Journeyman "But as the excitement's over we need to get on!"

Otelek's quiet discipline allied with his indulgence made him a popular and well respected teacher; and the apprentices fell obediently to their work!

"Reckon Vana'll be going for this clutch?" Jilamon asked Amrys later "She said she wanted to stand."

"Not hardly; they're here for a full turn's instruction, aren't they? And Segrith'll take three long months and three hot weeks…." Amrys counted on her fingers "They'll be hatching 'bout the same time Rillys is, third sevenday of the third month of next turn!"

Jilamon grinned at her description of Rillys' birthing!

The mating flight had been a welcome diversion to those suffering from their first High Reaches winter; short, grey days, punctuated by snowfall was depressing to someone like Larek of Keroon! The boy actually found the falling flakes quite hypnotic; and frequently had to be called to order for staring mindlessly out of the window!

The weavers from the warmth of Southern Boll too were unprepared for the earliness with which winter had set in – the first snowfall had been not long after Mirrith's clutch hatched and not the earliest snow ever, as Amrys pointed out – nor were they prepared for the depth of the cold! Indeed the falling flakes and the bone-numbing cold seemed to have a soporific effect on all the apprentices and even on the journeymen and masters. Master Lynger ordered the Threadfall shutters cranked shut on their clever ratchets – H'llon again – during snowfall to counter both the cold on the wide glass windows, since in heavy snow precious little light came in anyway; and to prevent the apprentices staring at the snow.

Amrys hated it.

She also concluded that it was probably a good idea; the fires seemed to give more warmth and with plenty of glow baskets the apprentices were more alert.

The brightness of the sun on the snow between snowfalls and blizzards also came as a shock to those of lower altitude; and Amrys found herself going to see Master Lynger to tell him to issue the order that snow goggles were to be worn. These were quickly ordered from the Hold Glasscrafter as more efficient than the slitted wooden eye protectors traditional in the region; for Lynger was not about to ignore the words of a local who knew the conditions!

On sunny days the shutters were thrown back, and equipped at first with lightweight dark coloured snow veils and subsequently with proper goggles the apprentices were ordered outside by Lynger to get what exercise and sunshine they could.

The Ranking girls were not entirely happy about being sent outside 'to play like kids' as Nemally from Lemos grumbled; and some of them refused point blank to wear the ugly goggles, preferring to stick to snow veils.

It was a different story when local youths came calling with sleighs to take the girls riding, however!

The apprentices begged Woodcrafter Journeyman Benor to make them simple toboggans; and took it in turns to pull each other about in teams of six or eight, the two or three who were riding shouting 'gee up!' and other encouraging comments until the pullers lost patience and overturned them into a convenient snow drift to change teams!

Amrys saw the winter beauty anew; and with a designer's eye. It was a revelation! She begged some watercolour pigment blocks and sketch-quality paper from the Weyr; and R'cal brought her what she asked for. Filigree reeds and ice-bound plants were meticulously sketched with much concentration and the danger of frostbite to the tip of Amrys' tongue, protruding from between her teeth with the unaccustomed effort of drawing. Amrys had an idea, and wanted to embroider the delicate traceries picked out in tiny glass beads to sparkle like the frost! She showed her sketches and outlined her ideas to Master Braelek; and found him enthusiastic.

"There are ideas always about us" he said "And your field weeds are delightful. This cattlebane – a bane it is to farmers! – is delicate and beautiful touched by frost on its seedhead. I am glad that, despite your weyr association you are not led to think that all designs must include dragons."

"Maybe it's just a case of familiarity breeds contempt – not contempt, but, well, acceptance as just normal" said Amrys. "I love dragons. I think they're beautiful, and I love the voided velvet Master Lynger is weaving with the dragons raised in the pile, passing and repassing each other on that shiny dark blue ground. But other things are beautiful too."

"How true! I think you'll make a fine designer with practice, young Amrys; very fine indeed! I hope I shan't lose you to brocading when you come to specialise!"

Amrys shuffled, pleased.

"I'd like to learn HOW to weave brocades; also to think about embellishing brocades further with embroidery. But I think I'll specialise in sewing if you'll have me."

Braelek beamed.

Any Master is happy when an apprentice prefers his specialisation over any other!

"I want to learn everything I can generally" said Amrys "Because I think it is a mistake to look at only one form of decoration. F'rinstance, I want to print patchwork pieces and then quilt into the printed forms to emphasise the pattern an things like that."

"Well that sounds a most excellent idea! Quilting around the edge of a printed shape is fairly standard, but taking the concept of designing something to print with the intent to embellish I have never seen done. I like the idea! Appliqué embroidered into is also something you may wish to explore."

Amrys nodded.

"I'm glad I've started early" she said seriously "It gives me heaps more time to learn!"

Braelek laughed.

"I hope you stay as enthusiastic through your whole apprenticeship, Amrys" he said. "But I think you will; you have the gift of contentment and enjoyment. I look forward to seeing your experiments; for even those that don't quite work will teach you something."

Amrys nodded.

She truly WAS looking forward to several turns of learning!

Braelek smiled, and suppressed a wistful sigh.

If only all apprentices were as keen as that, and without degenerating into priggishness.

Her worst enemy could not accuse Amrys of being a prig!


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

There was to be an ice fair towards Turnover; and Zayven declared his intentions of skating up to Nabol hold. He invited Tirley and Amrys to go with him, as the ones who were likely to succeed.

"I've been teaching Jilamon too" said Amrys, for she had spent much of her leisure time making her new brother competent on skates and skis "Can he come?"

"All right" said Zayven "He's hardy enough I guess."

At Turnover there was to be a two sevenday holiday; and those who could would make their way home. Zayven did not care to return to Twosprings Hold; he had however managed to arrange with Corbin for his grandfather, his only living relative he cared for, to transfer to Rivenhill Hold. Tirley planned to ride back from Nabol with his family; and had sent a message promptly to his father by little green Leelee to meet them there. The idea of reaching the Major Hold by skating to it appealed to him! Kevanna had nowhere to travel since the crafthall was the new home of herself and her family; as it was Hetel's, Kyilin's and Torghen's. Nelon elected to stay with Kevanna; her parents had made him welcome as a fosterling – Kevas knew Master Varik slightly and sympathised - and he had also received open invitation from Corbin to spend time at Rivenhill Hold.

It seemed unfair to Amrys that many of her other friends could not get to see their parents simply because of the distances involved; and she sent a note to R'cal, bluntly telling him that she was wheedling for lifts!

Jeral, Larek, Lyssa and Jerellan and the three boys from Tillek were quite overcome to be told that dragon transport had been arranged for them to visit their parents! Jeral had to declare a piece of grit in his eye; for he had resigned himself to being away from home for several turns!

Amrys was hugged and thumped on the back by the boys, and kissed by Lyssa!

The long skate up to Nabol promised to be challenging and fun; a deep cold had set in, too cold for snow, that would make their trip perfectly safe; Nabol was too far east for serious blizzards, and it was too cold for any likelihood of avalanche. And they would be in the company of plenty of others who desired to visit the Nabol Turnover Gather and liked the idea of skating all the way there!

Vana asked the children if she too might join them.

"I could ask for a dragon; but I'd rather skate; the exercise will be jolly" she said "But I'd quite like to know I was in the company of people I know and escorted by" she winked drolly "At least semi-respectable menfolk!"

It would have been impolite to have disagreed, though secretly the idea of having a big girl – a young woman really - along was not what any of the apprentices would have preferred! Yet what she glossed over was that without an escort of some kind – even relatively young boys – she might suffer insult from rough fellows also heading for the Gather who would see an unaccompanied girl, especially a well dressed one, as fair game. And as Amrys said to Jilamon,

"Better Vana than having someone like Serry wished on us!"

As it turned out, Vana had the tact to skate at some distance from the younger ones, save when there were men she preferred not to be alone with about, and she made no attempt to stop the youngsters from larking about!

Vendors of all kinds were strung out all up the river; just about every cotholder in the Esvay Valley had something to sell. The river was a conduit, and selling produce along it especially approaching Gather days, was a profitable sideline. The children bought regular hot snacks, apple rings in batter here, hot chestnuts there, gingerbread somewhere else; and contended that skating was hungry work and required regular sustenance!

It took the greater part of the day to skate as far as the river could be skated; large notices warned to get off the ice well below the high waterfall that did not always freeze in it sheltered location, and disturbed the water for some way downstream of its huge plunge pool. It looked frozen solid enough; but only a fool would risk it.

The apprentices and Vana took off their skates sitting on the stone benches provided there for the purpose; that also provided a resting place with the magnificent view of the falls in warmer weather. Tiny stone cots were set against the river cliffs, not intended for living in but solely to prepare food to sell to travellers, set up by various enterprising traders.

The youngsters contemplated the high cliff by the waterfall; there was a zigzag pathway cut into the cliff to scale it, with steps at the steepest parts, and people were busy climbing this precipitous path. Others took the cable carriage.

It was an ingenious device; thick ropes protected from Thread with a thick coating of skybroom resin ran around pulleys, top and bottom of the incline, the wooden carriage, also well resined, was clinched firmly to the uppermost rope, its own ties spliced well in. The lower cable went through a cogged wheel that was turned by a bullock in a treadmill, under an overlay extended by stone walls to protect it from Thread. At the top, a simple leaver was thrown by the men at the bottom to disengage the gear from the treadmill; and to bring it back down moved the lever into the reverse position so that at all times all the bullock need do was to keep walking in the same direction. The carriage could lift two wagon loads of sacks at any one time, or carry a dozen people; and Lord Deckter paid skilled ropemakers to check the mighty cables daily.

The third means of reaching the top of the falls was to use the gentler incline that followed a tributary to the Esvay River, leaving the river valley half a mile or more downstream; but it extended the distance of the journey considerably, and many carters preferred to accept contract as far as the cable; other carters at the top would then pick up the load for the short distance to the big Hold; only traders with their own carts hoping to buy and sell on their own account or runnerbeasts brought to race bothered with the longer way.

Vana paid to go by cable; the apprentices decided to save their marks and take the precipitate footpath that snaked up the steep cliffs.

"If a burro can make it" panted Tirley, half way up, "So can an apprentice!"

The trader ahead of them leading his complaining burro laughed.

"Sure, and there's no apprentice alive so clever as a burro but plenty are more stubborn" he teased.

"And I thought" said Amrys cheerfully "That THAT was what was said about Ruathans!"

"Jays, lad and a point to you, so it is!" laughed the Ruathan trader. "Any of you kids find it hard going, jest hang onto Nell's tail; sure, she'll give you a good pull!"

"With a good kick to go with it?" asked Zayven, suspiciously.

"Sure, she's no vices" said her owner "'Tis a good natured beast she is t'be sure; and indeed it's no teasing I meant ; the offer was in good faith."

"Then our thanks to you, and to Nell" said Amrys, availing herself of the proffered tail over a steep section where the steps were starting to crumble. "And I'll have an apple for her at the top!"

The trader laughed cheerily.

"Ye'll have a friend for life, that's for sure!" he said.

Nell appreciated her apple; and Amrys was glad she had kept one with her!

If Tirley's mother was a little effusive in her greeting of her son, his friends pretended not to notice; it would have been impolite. They bade him farewell; and Vana too, who went in search of her own family for a couple of sevendays. The other three planned to see what was left of the first day's Gather, and enjoy the next day and then skate back down on the third, going straight to Rivenhill Hold for the remainder of the holiday.

There was no Weyr craftstall this time, and precious few dragonfolk; but as Master Lynger had received an invitation to the opening of the brand new craft and its Hall, the Printercraft Hall at the weyr under H'llon as its first Master, that was scarcely surprising! Lord Deckter would be at the opening of the Crafthall too, and at the celebration feast too; his sons presided over the Gather in the meantime, and he would return for the morrow, when there would probably be more dragonfolk about as well.

The children enjoyed the Gather.

The noise and the bustle of a Major Gather was always fun, noisy and colourful! People dressed in their brightest clothing – with long woollen underwear sometimes visible at the cuffs where sleeves were more decorative than practical – and heavy boots adding another note of incongruity to the sometimes light and flimsy overgowns worn by young women! The wise ones also had on heavy petticoats; the unwise shivered.

Harpers played, adding to the cacophony of the shouts proclaiming wares and general hubbub; they had been engaged to entertain the Gather goers and though there was a drum to throw contributions into, it was a free entertainment. Most Gather pleasures were free, or very cheap; bubbly pies or cheese and bacon twists to fill youthful stomachs that knew no such thing as indigestion, sweet sticks and other confections, klah sold with the mug – the klah and the mugs being of variable quality, and the apprentices compromising the quality of the klah to buy mugs with moulded gurning faces on one side. There were entertainers displaying strange and wonderful skills, who went round the crowd with a hat after their displays of prowess – Amrys always put something in, especially in her awe of the fire eater – whether it was a man lifting heavy weights, the acrobatic dancers who had to keep moving not to freeze in their light costumes, and the declaimer of satirical poetry. A small troupe of actors too put on a play about a legendary Masterharper who solved mysteries; and in the spirit of logicating the apprentices watched in deep interest as the investigating Harper discovered which of two brothers had murdered their father with slow poison by the almond the old man had left; in the shell was a denunciation of the younger, but the Harper smelled the breath of the older and declared that the scent of almonds on his breath showed the true culprit and that the old man had been subtle enough that the medium was the message!

"It's a bit far fetched" said Zayven

"I guess it's one of those plays that's so old it's been simplified and we've lost some of the subtleties" said Amrys "But it's an interesting thing to bear in mind; don't go with the obvious answer necessarily. Look for the more subtle clues. I think that's the message of it" and she happily put an eighth into the hat that one of the younger children of one of the actors brought around.

A piece of purely gratis entertainment was to be had at the stall of a marksman selling predominantly cloth; and the apprentices amused themselves making loud and uncomplimentary comments about the quality of the cloth on sale until the unfortunate stall holder emerged red faced and angry from behind his stall, fists upraised.

To such threatened retaliation the children scattered, laughing; and, unable to chase them all he retreated with such dignity as he could muster!

The children also spent time purchasing Turnover gifts for their families for those members they had not made gifts for already.

Zayven spent much of his earnings from the goods he had sold at the Rivenhill Gathers on a really good knife for his grandfather from the Smithcraft stall.

"He likes to whittle and his old one is sharpened almost all away" the boy explained. The knife he picked had a good long blade and a dimpled bone handle that could be held delicately for fine work; and he was well pleased.

Amrys bought a doll for Corrys; the babe was old enough to enjoy a simple jointed wooden doll. She paid more to have a woodcraft-made one, thinking those on a marksman's stall rather crude. Jilamon thought hard about what to buy Corrys; and bought her a wooden dragon or firelizard with flapping wings from the same stall. It was sold as a firelizard; some people felt that making dragons into toys was sacrilegious, though the dragonfolk of High Reaches felt that making dragons familiar objects from an early age was better for Weyr-Hold relations than instilling too much superstitious awe!

The siblings combined to buy Rillys a necklace of Igen turquoise and silver; and Corbin was bought a fine leather hood and short cape, dyed a rich dark red and lined with wherry down cured on the skin. They had already been making gifts, of course! Amrys had picked the doll for its size, having knit a doll's layette so that Corrys had her own 'baby' to get her used to the new baby due in the spring. Jilamon, whose knitting was not of the best, had managed little mittens for their little sister. They had combined too to make a tablet woven belt for Rillys and gloves for Corbin; Jilamon had moved tablets to Amrys' instruction for his part of it; and he knit the wrists of the gloves for Amrys to finish off by doing the more complex fingers. Zayven had been busy too; he had woven a long scarf for his grandfather, long enough to go round the old man's chest as well as about his neck, High Reaches fashion; and the ends had a fair of firelizards woven into them, and Zayven had overcome his natural impatience to finish the scarf well for love of the old man. All the apprentices had made pact not to bother to exchange gifts this first turn; but to help each other out for family gifts where they could instead!

After all the pleasures of the Gather had been extracted, the children decided to treat themselves to a trip down on the Cable; as Amrys said,

"Going down's going to be more exciting then going up; good views and it'll feel a bit like flying I should think."

"Silly, the views are the same whichever way you go" said Zayven.

"No, when you're going down, the floor of the valley will rush up; that's got to be more exciting than having it drop slowly away" said Amrys.

"Well, it'll be fun anyhow" said Zayven, never having ridden it either way and not prepared to get into a hypothetical discussion, since Amrys freely admitted never having ridden the Cable herself before.

They embarked with a number of other people, the man at the top who took their marks carefully counting the number of people; and judiciously permitting a family with two small children and a baby bringing the theoretical number of people to fifteen, on the grounds that the three apprentices did not weigh much and counted each one with one of the infants as a whole person! The young father grinned happily not to have to wait any longer for the carriage to go down and return!

The cable rattled in an alarming way; and some of the women with them screeched and clutched their menfolk.

"It's supposed to rattle" said Amrys scornfully "Like boats are supposed to creak. How can you be so childish as to try to frighten those babes – who are behaving far better than idiots who squawk over nothing more than the component parts giving to ensure a safe and smooth ride!"

Her brother and her friend were awed by her knowledge; and the young mother flung her a grateful glance, for the explanation stopped a tentative wobble of the lip of the older infant who paused in the contemplation of a wail of terror to listen; and to feel superior to the silly grown up ladies.

The grown up ladies glared at Amrys; what was the good of a strategy of terror to make one's boyfriend hold you tight if some apprentice brat only goes to call you an idiot! Especially the young lady whose boyfriend said,

"I say! I didn't know that, young shaver, but I'd not say you're not right, for boats ARE supposed to creak!"

Amrys grinned blithely, blissfully unaware how much she had irritated the three squawking females!

It was a new experience.

"Well, it's not as much fun as dragonback, but I guess you can load more in" said Jilamon as they disembarked at the bottom.

"Get away with you pesky brats!" called the operator, assuming – not unreasonably – that he was taking the mickey. Apprentices with experience of dragonback flight? He snorted.

The children moved away, laughing cheerfully; what he thought they did not care. They had had a new experience and it had been fun!

Naturally, since new experiences create hunger that promptly went in search of a stall selling hot food; and purchased tubers baked in a brazier with plenty of salt and pepper; and Amrys treated them to butter too, expensive at this time of turn, but, she declared, essential on baked tuber.

Burnt mouths were the order of the day; but that was all part of the fun of eating brazier baked tubers juggled hotly in the hands as mittens heated through to start to feel uncomfortably hot; and they devoured the lot, ashy skins and all!

Once the last trickle of butter had been licked and the debris of the meal cleared – mostly - from around mouths and from clothing they sat themselves down on the stone benches to resume their skates. It was early yet; and they did not hurry, enjoying the sight of other skaters leaving, and not a few arriving who planned to make just the one day of it; for it was a glorious sunny day and they were in no particular rush to get home!

_A/N the tale of the harper and the scent of almonds is an ancient Chinese judge tale and dates back to before the 8th century. _


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

The apprentices were fastening their skates when a young man came flying up the river, just ahead of a party of young, well dressed people, and obviously showing off to them, especially the girls there. He cut some elegant figures; and after a rapid spin went right past the notice warning skaters to leave the ice.

"Hey, can't you read, you idiot?" shouted Amrys.

"Hey, yourself! Shut up you pesky brat! It's perfectly safe!" sneered the youth.

"Oh my! Somebody's foreign fosterling!" sighed Amrys.

The young man, who by his tan, came from somewhere to the south was pleased to show off the skills he had acquired on the quiet waters near his fosterage and proceeded to cavort and twirl.

It was the spin-jumps that did it.

"That wasn't even well executed!" said Amrys scornfully, as one who had virtually grown up on skates "He'll land the second jump heavy, came in too slow….fardles!"

The double axel following the lutz was heavy; and the boy came down awkwardly; and straight through the ice!

There were screams and gasps from his friends.

Amrys, Jilamon and Zayven headed for the edge.

"I'm lightest; hold me" said Amrys, throwing herself full length on the ice. Once breached, even walking out was risky indeed; and she knew she needed to spread her weight as much as possible!

Jilamon grabbed his sister's ankles; and edged out behind her, Zayven staying on the shore holding his ankles. Amrys unwrapped her scarf; and grabbed a stone from the edge of the ice to tie in it.

The boy was floundering, slower and slower, shocked by the cold.

"Grab and hold!" Amrys threw the scarf end, the weight enabling it to carry out to him.

He managed to grab it.

"Now hold on and kick like a mule on oats to keep warm!" she said.

The men from the winding station had thrown the brake on their Cable carriage and ran up; one passed Jilamon a rope.

"If the little lad can put that about hisself and the one in t' watter we'll haal aaway" he said in the idiom of some of the mountain folk.

Amrys heard him, and translated his words more readily than Jilamon, not yet used to the local dialects; and she quickly tied a bowline around herself.

"Here, what about me?" yelled the boy in the water.

"You next" she said "First rule of rescue; do not jeopardise the rescuer. You might help instead of trying to grab at me" as he made a frantic lunge "For if you do that I'll stab your hands and you can drown for I'm not about to drown for you. And it'll kill you too if you do panic and grab at me" she added calmly.

"Quite right kiddie!" a voice shouted from the shore.

With the rope about the weakening boy, her cold fingers fighting to tie the bowline on him, Amrys felt herself being hauled back; and helped by scrambling.

The boy made no attempt to help himself. He might have been too frozen; but Amrys suspected it was partly perversity, and sighed in contempt. Shivering he was landed like a packtail; and the men stripped him and rubbed him with rough blankets before hustling him into their cot.

The cable travellers, stranded half way up, had a grandstand view; and they gave a ragged cheer, shouting advice – mostly unwanted – to the men; and congratulations to the apprentices; and vituperation to the wet boy for leaving them dangling over the valley!

"And THAT's why there's a notice there" said Amrys scornfully, going back to the bench to sort out her skates.

"Happens every turn, lad" said a trader laconically. He was waiting to use the Cable, and had sat down on account of the delay. "Seen it once, seen it a dozen times. And plenty of bones in the plungepool of those less fortunate than him – thanks to you boys for being so quick. Workmanlike bowline that was too."

The girls who had been with the show-off promptly went into worse hysterics at tales of bones in the plungepool.

Amrys rolled her eyes.

"Well, we're off home" she said "Silly wherries!"

"Here, you apologise, you dirty little apprentice!" said one of the boys with them, trying to exert some authority to prove that he wasn't panicking himself. "These girls have Rank you know!"

"Heh, Rank they certainly are!" said Amrys coolly. "Well, I don't think I shall be apologising for having the cool head and knowledge to save your stupid friend; nor for thinking that Blood obligates and that those who act like wherries don't deserve Rank. And if you want to complain about me, you may do so to my mother and stepfather, Lady Warder Rillys and Holder Corbin of Rivenhill, that Lady Amrys and her brother Jilamon and their companion, Senior apprentice Zayven, all apprentice weavers are very sorry that you and your Rank – er, Ranking – friends are silly wherries; and I'm NOT sorry for calling them so. I am half sorry about helping to pull the idiot out though" she added meditatively "At least if he'd drowned he wouldn't have had the chance to breed and pass on his egregious stupidity" she liked egregious; and had been waiting for an opportunity to use it! "And now we are about our business. A VERY bad day to you, Holderman."

The friendly trader guffawed with laughter as the boy gaped.

"Ar, you tell Lady Rillys and Lord Corbin – they'll tan your ungrateful jacket, my lad!" he said to the Ranking boy. "Reckon you'm took on more'n you cin stomach, lad when you set out t'bully the kid; not that any of ussen would of let you get away with it you little snot; there's a big hole there anyone might throw a rude little brat like you into!"

The Ranking boy went pale and took an involuntary step away from the edge of the ice!

The children moved past him with their noses in the air and started off on their way home without further ado!

"That was SO well done, Amrys!" said Zayven.

"How DARE he be so rude after we risked ourselves?" demanded Amrys. "I'd not have made use of my Rank – but he's the kind that would listen to nothing else; and I wasn't half riled!"

"Do tell!" murmured Jilamon, squeezing his sister's arm affectionately!

It was lovely to come home to the love of Rillys and Corbin; and having met apprentices whose parents were less loving – as well as her own experiences with a bullying father – Amrys appreciated them the more. She CERTAINLY appreciated Corbin as a contrast to Derrinick; and she would always be grateful to Lord Deckter for executing her father!

Jilamon, browbeaten by his father and shunted between a number of fostering women, not even sure who his real mother might be, was grateful for any love.

He was beginning to be able to show his feelings to his new parents more; and returned embraces with embraces instead of freezing in confused immobility. And Rillys reflected that at High Reaches Weyr he would never have felt so; even if he had not got on with his father the abundance of love from the women there would surely have seen him happily fostered!

Turnover gifts were exchanged; Corbin was delighted with his hood, his old leather one having been stained with agenothree by the overenthusiastic use of an agenothree spreader during sweep; and this one was lovely and warm too! Rillys loved her necklace and both appreciated the work that had gone into the made items!

Corrys squealed with delight at her doll; and the flapping dragon – or firelizard – and could not choose which to play with, moving from one to the other!

Eventually she compromised by having her dolly ride on the dragon.

"So much for it being a baby" sighed Amrys.

"It will be when she's stopped being so overexcited about things" said Rillys. "Especially as I mean to talk about babies to her in preparation and show her how to hold her own baby properly. It's too big for that flapping dragon anyway; the wings won't go, and she'll tire of that soon enough!"

Corbin and Rillys had got gifts for the older ones too, of course.

Jilamon had a good stout knife and a finely tooled belt to wear it on, the buckle wrought in fine dark bronze in the shape of a dragon circled around to catch its own tail in its jaws; and a fine brocade jacket in blues and red, liked with grizzly fur for warmth; and he was delighted! Amrys received a pair of beautifully carved boxes with dragons sporting on the lids, in freehand chip carving that had to be H'llon's work! She ran her fingers over the carving, marvelling at his skill, and the liveliness of the dragons!

"Aren't you going to open them?" asked Rillys.

"There's something inside?" Amrys' eyes opened wide.

One of the boxes was full of beads of all kinds; glass, drilled pearls and little metal beads and sequins, each one in separate compartments in two trays that fit in perfectly with silken ribbon loops to lift them out.

The other box had a key that went into a hole in the side.

"Just lift the lid; I turned the key enough" laughed Rillys.

When the lid was lifted a drum of brass rotated, a comb catching at raised brass pegs; the comb was like a miniature harp and the pegs plucking at it to play the main theme from T'rin's piece 'flying'!

"OOH" said Amrys, awed. "Oh this is the best Turnover ever; last turn we had Corrys for an extra gift, now we've got another one on the way and Jilamon too! And I should think that having a brother as a playmate is the best present I could ever have!"

Rillys smiled at her joy; and pushed back the bitter memory of the infant brother killed by Derrinick's cruelty, that Amrys had in all probability forgotten.

After all she had so much; Corbin, and his children, and Jilamon too!

Corbin understood and squeezed her hand. No amount of children would ever stop her mourning tat lost baby; any more than Corbin would ever stop mourning for Brown Doroth. But they could both live with a pain that could be put aside for other loves.

In point of fact, Amrys had not forgotten her dead brother, though the circumstances were mercifully hazy in her mind; but she had not carried him beneath her heart as her mother had and she had mourned and moved on, accepting Felgarra, who had her mother's milk, as family, and all her siblings, especially Sagarra, by extension. And Jilamon had the advantage of being of an age with her. And her anger towards Derrinick was probably greater than her grief over her dead brother.

It was a wonderful family time.

They went for long snowy tramps, visiting outlying cots too, to check they were all right; and Jilamon became adept at cross country skiing. They visited the Weyr too – courtesy of Camnath – to see Sagarra and T'lana and their ever expanding family; and T'mon too; and had the chance to look over the new Printhall.

"I like our Weavercraft Hall better" Amrys whispered to Jilamon.

"The proportions are no different, there's little to pick between them" said Jilamon prosaically. "H'llon designed them both. And I do like the covered way around the courtyard."

"It'd cut the light down no end which would make colour matching harder. And our Hall is free standing; I think it looks finer than being built out from the cliff of the weyr walls like an afterthought" said Amrys obstinately.

"It's more practical built out from the cliff" said Jilamon.

"Don't you feel partisan in the least for our own Hall?" demanded Amrys.

He laughed.

"Not really. It's not like it was another Weaver Hall, after all."

Amrys considered that.

"I guess not" she said. "I hope they'll start printing things like knitting patterns soon; reading old scrawl on thrice-scraped parchment is wearing."

"I think we have to ask" said Jilamon.

"Master Lynger will ask" said Amrys "I have every faith in him; he has sense!"

Soon they would be returning to the crafthall for another Turn's work; and then they would have a measure of seniority! Master Weaver Lynger had decreed that there would be a new intake of apprentices after Turnover, as was traditional; and there would be a dozen new ones who would look to their elders for guidance.

Actually, reflected Amrys, it was quite likely that many of them would be older than her and Kevanna and a couple of the boys. Most started apprenticeships at around twelve turns old, though many crafts stretched a point to let in talented ten turn olds – especially the Craftbred. And one was eligible to begin an apprenticeship up to fifteen turns old, by which age some of the most talented who had served apprenticeships for several turns might be journeymen. Especially in new crafts like the Printercraft; where one of the co-inventers of movable letters was Journeyman Tahnee, only fourteen turns old!

Well, whether any new ones cared to make an issue of age was something to worry about in the future. They could be kept in their place by the advanced knowledge of the second turners; though they were not Senior Apprentices nor likely to be for several turns hard work, even the talented ones like Nelon and Tirley. Jerellan might be made Senior; he was serious minded as well as talented and had drawn ahead as a result of his long illness and enforced inactivity. He was also older than the rest, almost fourteen turns, Amrys thought; and unable to apprentice before because of his health. Amrys hoped he would gain his senior's tassel; it would give him confidence.

The good thing was, the new ones would not KNOW how old the others were; and the old hands might therefore get them in the habit of respecting those with more experience before they found out!

The custom of posting confirmation of apprenticeship generally took place after a turn; as with starting new ones; but Amrys agreed with Lynger's decision to take new ones in at the traditional time. It had been nice of him to extend the courtesy of posting confirmation for such of the class as had made the grade; which was most of them! Those not confirmed would have the full turn round to make themselves up to the mark; and it was to be hoped that they would take the lack of confirmation as a spur.

On the whole, the apprentices had learned more that their masters had thought likely.

It augured well for the crafthall; and everyone was looking forward to the new.

**The end for now**


End file.
